DA4 The Reckoning
by Ameslan
Summary: An addendum to the trilogy. The fleet is called into action when the planet is attacked. Two central and several supporting characters are killed. An officer faces a critical decision aboard a doomed ship and mission. Please R&R all.


With Pr'gn and Dermon on a mission which will change their destinies, the rest of the fleet faces its most desperate hour. When the Alliance and the Federation go to war, many lives are changed forever!

star trek

the new breed

WORKING TITLE: MIDNIGHT OF DESPERATION

RIDING SILENT THUNDER PART II-

THE RECKONING

ALTERNATE TITLES: DEAD RECKONING, DRAKMÄRMAGEDDON

(Includes conclusion of subplot: SWAN SONG–concept by the late Zach Durkin)

(also worked in a 'b-plot' is the story "TRAIL OF TEARS" a 'trek-nology' laden idea by Perry Moore)

"Station condition Yellow alert, prepare to dispatch appropriate intercept." O'Camp ordered. With respect to Captain O'Camp's position as the Spacedock's Commanding Officer, the Admiral gave a curt nod as he replied,

"Aye sir," a moment later, he announced, "Dockmaster is dispatching the Battleship _QUICKSILVER_ and the Juggernaut _JUGGERNAUT_ to intercept." This prompted Jarrad to interject sarcastically,

"What's the matter? Couldn't they dispatch all the Dreadnoughts at once?" In response, Westlake stated,

"The _TANELORN_ cannot be dispatched for obvious reasons, the _NARNIA_ has no crew yet, and the _LUSITANIA_ and _DECEPTIVE_ would have to be recalled first." O'Camp then spoke up and addressed the Cadet training at Tactical,

"Speaking of which; Cadet, institute _Code 13_, my authorization" in response to her blank stare, he clarified,

"_Emergency recall, all ships._"

"Oh, _that_ Code 13." she said as she complied. Under her breath, she muttered,

"Good one, Cadet. Not only do you blow it, but you have all the brass as an audience." Suddenly remembering that the Destroyer _CHEROKEE_ had been dispatched under Pr'gn's Command to penetrate the Shadowlands to locate the _MERCY_, O'Camp asked,

"Can we contact the _CHEROKEE_, or has she entered the local shadow cloud yet?" Westlake tapped his keyboard a few times and answered,

"They entered nearly an hour ago."

"How soon 'till our ships rendezvous with the _ARK ROYAL_?" Jarrad inquired of the Ambassador.

"47 minutes at maximum warp. They will be leaving in 5 minutes and the _ARK ROYAL_ is station keeping 1.5 kilometers from our border. The return trip at Cruising speed should take twice as long." Westlake replied. O'Camp did some quick mental calculations and said,

"That should put them back here in 2 hours and just under 10 minutes."

"6 minutes" Westlake grinned. This prompted Jarrad to smile at O'Camp and say,

"Well, now that Potter's heading for the civilian sector, I guess now we know who's gonna be doing our numbers."

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Commodore Lois Jade was escorted into the _SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN's_ Conference Lounge. Over a dozen Department heads followed her every move as she moved to sit down at the foot of the red simulated wood table. With her usual air of dignity, she slid into the empty seat as she spoke in her smooth, light British accent, 

"Good day, everyone" a subdued chorus of "_Hi, Mom_"s answered her. From the head of the table, Jarrad spoke up,

"Well Commodore Jade, what brings you to grace us with your presence? ...Or more to the point, what's the bright idea in having a Federation Starship park on a friendly power's border and hailing them…us using a _declaration of war_? This is a pretty serious situation!" Dead serious, the Starfleet flag officer replied,

"Admiral Jarrad, I am here to let you know that we're in this together, no matter the cost."

"**_SAY WHAT_**!" Jarrad began to explode, but was cut off by a raised hand form the mature Commodore,

"It seems that when you took on that fleet of warships last week, you really dealt the Tal Shiar a humiliating blow. For some reason, the Obsidian Order is taking it personally as well. Plus, for obvious reasons, the Jerichans have been looking for any reason to get a hand in destroying the Alliance. For those reasons, those three have dispatched their finest warships to amass at Jericha. The Romulans have already shown and the best Intelligence reports should have the Cardassians there within hours. We will have about two-dozen vessels in this sector within two days. Starfleet has ordered that every available ship is to assist you and will be here as soon as possible." Jarrad grinned inwardly about the rumor concerning his last mission already being treated as fact. He guessed that even the loss of one Warbird was a humiliation to the Romulans.

* * *

_**CHEROKEE**_

"Captain, I am detecting a focused anti-gravimetric interference pattern that does not appear to be naturally occurring. It may be a Tractor Beam, and it seems to be pursuing a linear course within plotted Shadowland lanes." Te'ana-L announced from the _CHEROKEE's_ Ops station. Pr'gn rose from his position, supervising the Engineering diagnostic, and ordered while striding to the Command Chair,

"Plot the course and execute." He then sighed and tapped the **INTERCOM **key on the chair's armrest, raised his voice and spoke,

"All hands, all stations, this is the Captain speaking; report to Battlestations! RED ALERT!" He then turned to Lieutenant Antuur-S at Tactical and requested,

"Shields up, arm phasers and load photons" As he complied, Pr'gn addressed the officer at the helm,

"Lieutenant, once we approach Tactical Acquisition Range, I want you to assume a Conical heading _into_ the Shadowlands to ensure us the advantage."

"Sir, assuming a Warp speed Conical heading into the Shadowlands while at Battlestations will cause at least a 10 degradation in the Warp field generators." Reported Ops. The Engineer replied,

"I am aware of that Ensign, but thank you...How long until intercept?"

"Since that section curves away from us, 24 minutes, Sir." came the reply.

Twenty minutes later, the Vulcan helmsman announced,

"Initiating conical heading now, we will be in sensor range in 3 minutes." Pr'gn knew that the other ships would be taken by surprise as the _CHEROKEE's_ scanners had been calibrated for the specific mission and knew to look and what for. The others did not.

"Divert power from Transporters to augment Structural Integrity Field and Inertial Dampeners." Pr'gn authorized. Minutes later, Antuur-S reported,

"Approaching Tactical range now!"

"Full impulse, on screen" came the Commander's reply. The Screen _winked_ on to reveal a startling scene: dropping out of Warp, the _TREENOR_ was towing the _CYGNUS_, while being escorted by two Nortanian Paladins. The _MERCY_ was leading the pack towing a third Paladin which was missing a wing. Pr'gn turned to face the Tactical station while saying,

"Hail the.." but was interrupted by an _alert_ tone from the Station's panel. The Drakmärian Lieutenant junior grade frowned and glanced at his panel. As he glanced back up, his upswept eyebrows arched as he announced,

"No need, sir; they're hailing us." without moving, Pr'gn pointed a thumb toward the Main Viewscreen. Commodore Antoné Hersh appeared, slouching in the _MERCY's_ center seat. He appeared haggard but alert and smiled wearily as he spoke,

"You guys are a sight for sore eyes...ah, Pr'gn, aren't you supposed to be out getting the _TANELORN_ in and out of more trouble than it's worth again?" The Engineer returned the smile saying,

"Been there, done that; I decided to try something really challenging and see what kind of trouble I could get _you_ out of for once." the fatigued Commodore winced at the Junior Officer's good-natured barb and tightened his expression to emphasize the seriousness of his next comment,

"Well then, I hope that you've brought more than a few Engineers along, because we're going to need them." as Pr'gn peered over Te'ana's shoulder at the Ops readout of the sensor sweep of the _CYGNUS_, his eyes bugged as he responded,

"Confirmed, _CHEROKEE_ out." he then faced his First Officer and stated,

"Gigi, they need me over there, so the _CHEROKEE_ is yours." Lieutenant Gracie Goodman nodded her acknowledgment and addressed Antuur,

"Stand down Red Alert, secure from Battlestations."

An hour later, they were again underway. This time, the _MERCY_ was towing the crippled _CYGNUS_, the _CHEROKEE_ was taking the lead and the _TREENOR_ was bringing up the rear with her Escorts flanking. The damaged Paladin was now being towed by the _TREENOR_. Pr'gn had reorganized the repair efforts into 10 double team 1/2 hour rotational shifts. This meant that at any given time, there were 5 teams on task with 5 teams taking a break but monitoring progress and switching off every 30 minutes. The new schedule was more efficient and halfway through the second day the _CYGNUS_ was underway at Warp 3.5 under her own power. The fact that his ship was faring so much better pleased Dermon to no end and he resumed Command when Pr'gn returned to the _CHEROKEE_. Back in his own element, Dermon actually came up with a way to get the Paladin back under its own power. Hersh and Pr'gn came up with a plan to remove the other wing, but Dermon took pity on the ship's Commander. He rebuilt the Warp Engine using parts from nearly a dozen of the _TREENOR's_ Starburst torpedoes. As he rebuilt the engine, Dermon took extensive notes on Nortanian Engineering, fully realizing how important those notes would soon become to his career plans.

_Commander's log; Stardate: 49001.3. I am taking the __CHEROKEE back to the Spacedock early. The Engineering teams I left aboard the __CYGNUS have the problem well in hand so I can get back to my __TANELORN. I will only beat them by 1 1/2 hours, but I prefer my department to my own Command. Knowing my luck, someone in one of those highfalutin' Councils will use this experience as an excuse to give me my own Command. We will exit the Shadowlands in 15 hours and be home 25 minutes later._

* * *

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN **_

"...In the past day and a half, all the Non-essential personnel plus the entire Civilian population have been removed from the Station. Fortunately, Yeoman Asimov has been gracious enough to handle the daunting task of managing the logistics. We have just under 12 hours until the opposition gets here." O'Camp concluded his part of the briefing. Jarrad stood next,

"I am staying here on the Spacedock to conduct _Command and Control_. O'Camp, you are one of the best officers I have, yet I would like to ask Potter to take Command of the _TANELORN_ for this mission. Captain McCollin has concluded repairs and installed a temporary-mount Megaphaser cannon. Once first contact is established, I want the Durkin net disabled and reset to emit a passive neutrino loop exchange with this facility so we won't be vulnerable to cloaked vessels..." He was interrupted by the INTERCOM chime. He opened his mouth to reply, then nodded to O'Camp, who was still in Command. The Captain gave the go-ahead, and the Communications officer announced,

"Sir, I just lost the Tachyon beam that carries the active telemetry feed from _SERENDIPITY STATION_!"

"Dear Jesus." whispered O'Camp as he covered his mouth with a hand in shock at what this meant. Jarrad was the first to find his voice and hoarsely croaked,

"Thank you." as he closed the line. He then slowly looked from face to face, his own wearing a grave expression, without saying a word. He didn't have to. Everyone knew what was happening because they were thinking it too. The game was no longer a Chess game of Diplomacy. The rules had changed, and nobody liked, or wanted to admit, what they had changed to. _For keeps_.

Half an hour later found O'Camp in his office reviewing the situation with Westlake and Asimov. The former was dictating the results of the evacuation, that all Non-military aligned craft had departed for the sanctuary of Federation space carrying all Non-combatant personnel, when a call came through from Captain Jacob McNafferty.

"Captain O'Camp, the _FOUR-LEAF CLOVER_ is being repaired and won't be space-worthy for 3 days. Since you need all the manpower you can get, I would like to stay here and put my combat experience to some use…it may not be much, but my work for the Resistance did earn me a position within the Bajoran Militia."

"Captain, the decision is not mine alone to make, but it will be considered and the decision will be made before you depart." O'Camp replied and resumed the briefing.

Asimov informed him that 8 Starfleet ships had shown with 4 more arriving within the day. There were also 19 Star Corps ships ready and waiting and 5 more would be returning within the next day as well. The Spacedock's Wayfarers would be augmented by the Federation ships' Runabouts. Several Starfleet ships that had shown were former postings of some of the Alliance personnel, and the reunions made for a much-needed lightening of the atmosphere. McNafferty was also pleased to no end an hour later when he was notified by the Bajoran embassy that the Militia had drafted him and temporarily assigned him to the authority of the Embassy. The Ambassador had then made a request that McNafferty be given a posting in the Star Corps as part of the Officer Exchange Program. O'Camp had accepted, informing them that the only position available was conn aboard the Juggernaut _GALACTICA_. The final detail was that the Drakmärian Royal Rangers were working together with the Starfleet Marines as well as the Nortanian Mystic Warriors who were consulting with the Rangers. There was also a Detachment of the Nortanian Militia involved since the Alliance charter required separate disciplines be given unique titles, the Nortanian Armada had segregated its Non-Naval personnel. This change in policy had led to the Alliance Marines to be realigned under their own Command as the Strike Force. These _Strikers_ also worked closely with the Rangers and were even now training with them.

_**CHEROKEE**_

"Commander, I'm getting some unusual readings from the port Warp Nacelle." Te'ana reported over the INTERCOM to Pr'gn. He was in the ready room poring over the project logs of the _TANELORN-A_ construction and appending them as he saw fit. The call interrupted his thirtieth page of notes, and it was only then that he noted how tired his hands were from the writing. Pr'gn made his way to the Engineering console on the Bridge where he noticed the problem as well,

"One of the Nacelle Elements wasn't seated properly and the high-field falloff from these plasma clouds is compounding the problem. Lean down the intermix ratio and boost the subspace field by 3 1/2. That should get us home in one piece. I don't want to run the risk of not being able to restart that engine and then having the _CYGNUS_ tow us home." The comment elicited the desired round of chuckles on the rather cramped Bridge. When she'd completed the requested modifications, the Ops officer commented,

"I don't like the way the stabilization rate keeps fluctuating, I'm going to increase the Coolant Manifold pressure by 1/3." Pr'gn looked at the readout in question with his usual thoughtful wince for a moment and nodded. It wasn't the standard procedure, but this wasn't his crew and he didn't feel the need to have them under his thumb. He smiled and replied,

"Keep an eye on it though, I've got a reputation to uphold you know." That elicited the round of laughter he was looking for. All except for Togur, who glanced at him from the helm with a Potter-esque raised eyebrow for a moment and then added a couple flat emotionless laughs before returning to his station.

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN**_

"I should honestly make a point to visit the Federation more often, the sights are quite beautiful, not to mention the women. I've fallen achä about 30 times since we left the lift 2 minutes ago."

"Amen, my friend; but knowing you it's less love than the passion of impending battle."

"You know, Jarrad was wrong about you, you _can_ be fun to hang out with!" O'Camp rolled his eyes and shook his head as Larr guffawed at his own barb. The two were on their way to take their postings at the _TANELORN's_ port. Many present Starfleet ships had never had any experience with either the Badlands or their Alliance counterpart, the Shadowlands and would be at a Tactical disadvantage if they got too close to the _event horizon_. Alliance Engineers had spent the last several hours retuning the phase discriminators to neutralize the distortion from the active plasma fields. As they turned the corner to head to the appropriate access, they noted that the _ARK ROYAL_ was docked at the port next to them. A familiar face was approaching them, coming the other direction from the Dockmaster's office. Commodore Jade was talking into her communicator while making adjustments to her tricorder. As they got closer, Jade lifted her head with her usual regal bearing and said,

"Good day gentlemen, how are you doing?" Both officers replied with the usual pleasantries reserved for someone of the Commodore's stature. Knowing that she disdained strict adherence to the regulations, both Alliance officers continued to refer to her as '_Mom_' during the comradely banter. The Commodore concluded the conversation by making a comment that surprised both men,

"I understand that unfortunately we won't be privileged with a light show courtesy of the Atomizer. A pity." She laughed in response to their reaction of her knowledge of the status of the Superweapon. Before they could inquire into her knowledge of classified information, she addressed someone who was approaching behind them,

"I gather it is all calibrated now and we are ready to go?" Their questions forgotten; O'Camp and Larrgn-Z turned to face the newcomer. She was a strikingly attractive Lieutenant junior grade wearing a Starfleet Gold uniform. The one unique feature about her was that she was wearing purple spectacles. As the Lieutenant walked around toward her Commanding officer, Larr tried to get in a quick leer at her shapely posterior, which earned him a sharp look of reproof from Jade. Noting the curious looks at her eye gear, Jade explained,

"This is Lieutenant Yve Templeton, my Assistant Chief of Operations. She is a citizen of Etum, whose population is a mixture of Deaf and Mute. The device is an Intelligent _Heads-Up Display_ that acts as an Interpreter and Alerting System. It is called an Etuman Audial Relay. This is Captain O'Camp, Executive Officer of this Facility and Commander Larrgn-Z of the _TANELORN_, who is also the Crown Prince of the planet below." Larr didn't bother to correct her that _below_ them was his planet's _moon_. They both noted that as introductions were made, Templeton's eyes flitted back and forth and it appeared that there was a type of rippling effect on the surface of the Spectacles. As Jade spoke Larr's name, Templeton's brows furrowed for a moment and then she nodded. As Jade took her leave, Templeton replied,

"Pleased to meet you both." There was an odd, unique, flat quality to her voice that both assumed came from the fact that she'd never heard her own voice. They paused for a moment and watched the ladies depart down the access way. Immediately, after they were through the airlock, Both men murmured in unison,

"_Yve huh_?_ Madam, I'm Adam_!" Then Larr turned, gave O'Camp a sly look and did something totally out of character by saying,

"By your leave sir." In response to the Captain's puzzled look, the Prince continued, "I've been reading up on those 20-century Terran Spy Novels as you suggested. In all of them the hero gets the girl, and I figured you were about due...Mr double-Oh...camp." O'Camp rolled his eyes again and laughed,

"Big difference is, their 'Q' is a good guy." Larr paused for a second, completely confused. Then he let out a roar of laughter and conceded,

"OK you win; _that _was _really _obscure!" They resumed their trek to the _TANELORN's_ dock, but were interrupted when O'Camp stopped short as he spotted a section of Drydock lights flicker. This was followed by the _klaxon_ of the Spacedock going to Red Alert. Larr whipped out his phaser and quickly looked around, ready for intruders. He then grabbed O'Camp by the elbow and literally threw him into the access way while mumbling an apology. He placed the senior officer against the wall and covered him with his back. Larr slapped his combadge and snarled,

"Larrgn-Z to _TANELORN_! Emergency transport! Two to beam directly to Main Bridge!" Moments later, they were at their destination and the Drakmärian holstered his weapon. Once O'Camp collected himself he noted Potter's expression, one of bemused curiosity and Larr explained,

"Jarrad ordered me to see to his welfare with him being a personal noncombatant." Potter nodded and tapped a few keys on his chair's console. He paused for a moment as if measuring his next words and stated,

"On that note and off the record, I do hereby inform you that I'll allow you to remove your Symbol of Office and still remain in uniform according to Star Corps article 25138 section G, paragraph 3." O'Camp reached up to touch the Chaplaincy Crucifix affixed to his collar and replied,

"According to the ARCH charter, I respectfully decline until such time as it is determined that the duties of my Office would so compromise the Welfare of this ship and crew...besides I consider it my Personal Insurance Policy." According to policy, all Chaplains were noncombatants and during an Alert Situation had to be under constant escort. When battle was imminent, Chaplains were allowed to stand-down their office so as not to call attention to themselves or so that they could be allowed to aid in the defense of their comrades if ordered to do so.

* * *

"Status report!" Jarrad shouted as he burst from his office. Asimov looked up from the Ops display and reported, 

"A couple cloaked ships opened fire on the Station. Judging from the weapon type I'd say it was Jerichan. It was that _subspace scrambler weapon_ which has been wreaking havoc on our ships." Fury in his eyes, Jarrad demanded,

"Please tell me you got a fix on the weapon this time!" The weapon was the bane of Jarrad's existence since the '_SONIC Jammer_' as it had been dubbed had no known defense, was impossible to track and wreaked havoc on Subspace Transceivers. As Jarrad strode over to the Tactical station, Asimov consulted the console's logs.

"The SONIC Jammer may be affected by mass. The Docking Ring sections that were incapacitated came right back on-line once the nuclear batteries reset. As far as getting a fix, sensors aren't sure that anything actually hit us. At one point it appeared that _a .0005 millicochrane plastic comet of 22 trillion metric tons_ was coming straight at us then the second blast looked…well, equally bizarre." The Admiral shook his head and sighed,

"J'Cinda, please ensure everyone is supplied with phasers. Yeoman, how long until all ships are ready? It seems that our timetable is a little off." As the amethyst-eyed Drakmärian handed him his sidearm, Asimov replied,

"The final ship is exiting as we speak. According to Intelligence reports, that attack may be just standard Jerichan procedure. They have been known to send in a small flight of cloaked ships to do a multi-vectored strafing run anywhere from minutes to hours ahead of a potential attack."

_**CHEROKEE**_

"Engineering to Bridge, we've got a problem down here."

"Confirmed, I'm on my way. Pr'gn out. Gigi you have the Bridge. Maintain course and heading and keep me apprised of any news." As he made his way to his destination, Pr'gn mused that the distance he had to walk to get to Engineering in the Destroyer was less than the length of the _entire_ Engineering section of the _TANELORN_.

"Captain on deck!" Announced the Lunärian who was acting as his Chief of Engineering for this mission. The being was on loan from the Royal Rangers' Engineering Corps and was all business. She was being groomed for a Unit Command and Pr'gn was to evaluate her performance, and she knew it. Pr'gn couldn't remember her name due to its length, but knew her nickname. It was based from her Clan being the same as Xark's from the _LARRGN-Z_ along with a ten letter long family name that started with 'V'.

"As you were T-V, what seems to be the problem?" The adopted Drakmärian was motioned over to a station where a Nortanian was seated.

"There's a plasma storm at 348 mark 5 and as we approach our problem gets steadily worse. We've done several simulations and have determined that we have a field impedance buildup in that nacelle." The Lunärian reported. Pr'gn sighed,

"What is the field equivalency value?" The Nortanian did some quick calculations and replied with an almost puzzled tone,

"7.3498989898 to infinity, sir. But, how is that possible with only the impedance building up?" Pr'gn pointed at the monitor and was planning to answer when he forgot the proper address for a level 4 Non-Commissioned Officer in the Militia. He covered up his mistake by putting on a sly smile and looking obliquely at T-V,

"By all means Corporal, enlighten your subordinate."

"Well Sub-4, the falloff is being created by the plasma field and the storm creates unusual intensity. Since all plasma burns at a constant wavelength, the improper seating of the Element is causing the field controllers to detect the improper ionization level of the non-regulated plasma. The net result is that it is stuck trying to automatically re-enrich the plasma, and it is perceiving the external field as resistance." She instructed matter-of-factly as the other being followed along by monitoring the readouts.

"The value goes up by .01 every 20 minutes. We have to keep the Warp value at the next hundredth round digit for the remainder of our flight." As Pr'gn informed the Bridge of the plan, the Lunärian made some more calculations. She double-checked her conclusions and faced her Commanding Officer coming to full attention as she addressed him,

"Permission to brainstorm freely, sir."

"As a Department Head, always, T-V."

"The incremental value of our Warp Field will cause increased subspace field stress on the reaction chamber. We may wind up with loss of field integrity or overload so I'd to establish a backup plan."

"You're referring to explosive removal of the Nacelle Pylon? Excellent idea. I was just considering that possibility myself…leave it to you Ranger types to figure out how to use munitions to solve a problem."

"Sir I wasn't trying to..."

"Oh I know your motto is: '_There is no problem so great that it can't be solved by suitable application of quantum torpedoes_' am I right or what?"

"Actually ours is '_Fury of the Finest_' for what it's worth." Came the Lunärian's reply to the Engineer's tease.

_**CYGNUS**_

"May I sit with you Sir?" Lieutenant Ses looked up from his PADD to see Junior Lieutenant Petmuus standing in front of him holding a plate of food. The Trill nodded and replied in the other's native Nortanian,

_"Of course, to what do I owe the pleasure?"_ Petmuus paused in surprise at Telnah's command of his language and then sat. Ses waited while the Security Officer took a capsule out of his pants pocket, crumbled it on his entrée and took a few bites. Ses commented,

_"Bet you can't wait until they find a way to replicate your food with the metabolic enzymes already in it, huh?" _Bari smiled,

_"Don't you know it, sir? How is it that you know my language so well? Most humanoids find it quite challenging."_

_"In the past 1500 years, the Ses symbiont has had 17 hosts, 3 of which have served on Nortanian vessels. The last was the Grand Paladin KEZNOR Beetle."_

_"No kidding? My Great-Grandmother was the Chief of Security on that ship."_

_"I remember her. Fair woman, a little rough around the edges but she made sure her people knew how to do their jobs right. I was only there for 6 months, she didn't come down to Engineering much and when she did, it was never socially."_

_"Thanks. I never knew her. Anyway, I was doing the latest '_Shadowcat_' Telemetry read and found that there is a path that we could take that would get us home faster. I know that the Commodore is anxious to get back home and all. The one caveat is that with it's enhanced shielding, only the CYGNUS could make it." _The '_Shadowcats_' were a special high-powered Nortanian probe used by the Alliance to map the Shadowlands continually since the cloud formations were always drifting and colliding into a plasma cloud at warp 5 was always deadly. As Bari quickly finished his meal, Telnah pored over the Telemetry in question. When he finished, the Trill also stood and said,

"Let's take this to the Captain." The Nortanian winced in reply,

"According to my personnel records I'm officially to have no contact with anyone above the rank of Department Head or Lieutenant."

"Say what? Oh please! Who was the brain-trust that came up with _THAT_ bright idea?"

"My old Captain, Tor'vo-V as part of the disciplinary process when I served aboard the old _CHIEFTAIN_."

"I remember that. He brought back the _CHIEFTAIN_, just barely I might add since it turned into _MY_ headache, dropped off several crew members, and demanded to be issued another ship all the while making a big stink about everything. I understand that he's the nephew of a Councilman which is why he got issued the _STORMWIND_ immediately. Last we saw of him or that ship." Ses tapped his communicator and addressed it, "Bridge this is Lieutenant Ses, please inform Commodore Dermon I'm on my way to report to him." A voice on the other end acknowledged and closed the channel. After the lift doors opened at the Bridge, Petmuus simply glanced at them uncomfortably but seemed unwilling to exit. Ses smirked and winked,

"I could make it an order since I do outrank you." Bari sighed and tentatively stepped onto the Bridge. His eyes swept the Bridge which was quite similar to the one he'd served on years ago. He paused for a moment to gaze longingly at the _CYGNUS_' version of his old station, Tactical, which wasn't all that different. The two Lieutenants heard talking coming from the front of the Bridge and turned to face the only two occupants. The two were making small talk about the planet Nortania. Sitting at the helm was a Nortanian female who seemed to recognize Petmuus. At Ops was a fairly young Human who was completely bald. Despite the Human's ready smile, he seemed a little pale and his eyes looked tired. When he noted the Human's 5 silver rank pips, Petmuus slowed his pace and Ses took his cue to stop. Puzzled by the distance at which the two stopped from him, Dermon arose from his seat,

"Is there like a problem or something gentlemen?" Ses laughed,

"My associate is merely in awe of your legendary presence, Commodore."

"Should I be expecting him to begin groveling at my feet and chanting '_I'm not worthy_' then?" Dermon responded to the tease. After a few moments, panic began to rise in the Nortanian's expression and the others enjoyed a laugh at his expense. Dermon strode over to the Command chair and asked,

"Everything is progressing according to plan correct?"

"Aye sir, I wanted to show you an idea that Lieutenant Petmuus approached me with that I'm sure you'd be interested in." Ses announced as he handed the PADD over. Dermon pored over the contents for several minutes. He then looked up and asked,

"What is the location of the closest '_Shadowcat_' to our position?" The female at the Helm pointed to a location on the holographic Tactical readout between the two stations. As she opened her mouth, Dermon interrupted,

"I thought that was the location of the _CHEROKEE_..." he frowned and continued, "Someone has got to reset these stations to read standard or at least Drakmärian so I can read them!" As he continued to read, Helm announced while Ses glanced at the Ops panel to note that it was all in Nortanian,

"Negative sir, the _CHEROKEE_ is heading away from us in a direct line. The '_Shadowcat_' is heading roughly toward us at an oblique angle. It is heading toward us directly in line from the _SPACEDOCK's_ position." Dermon looked up in surprise,

"Uh, the _SPACEDOCK_ doesn't _have_ any '_Shadowcats_.' In that case, I _really_ want a demonstration of an interlink. When will we be in position to do so Hardison?"

"8 minutes, 12 seconds which will put us 14 minutes from Petmuus' cutoff point." She announced while manipulating the holo-interface to focus on the Probe's relative location to theirs. Ses proceeded to Ops and worked the console for a moment and then announced,

"Bridge consoles are now your-lingual Commodore."

"Thank you Lieutenant, I appreciate that." Dermon sighed. For a split moment, a sickly look passed over Zach's countenance and he seemed to cringe. Before anybody could say anything, He got out of the Center Seat and began to trudge to the Turbolift, his face pallid. Zach stated as he entered the lift,

"Daynel you have the Bridge. _Tetris_, you set up the link. I'll be back in a few minutes." As they exchanged puzzled looks, Petmuus chuckled lightly as he commented,

"Hrm, that's the first time I've ever been called _that_…I hope he's not going to check my service record."

"Nah, that's not his style. I think he's headed to Sickbay. I heard from _SPACEDOCK_ scuttlebutt that he was accidentally infected with something pretty nasty while saving someone else's life on an Away Mission and the treatments are worse than the infection."

_**CHEROKEE**_

Pr'gn was in his own domain, the Chief Engineer's office, mulling intently over their predicament. He was honestly stumped. He had done every scan he could think of as well as run a _complete_ diagnostic. No good. The main reason he was at a loss was these mass-produced parts were designed to go together like a child's Joining Toy. Each unit was prefabricated, and nobody on his staff was so incompetent as to make such a simple mistake. Something niggled in the back of his mind and he tried focusing on it right as there was a _chime_ at his office door. T-V stood there in an Engineering protective jumpsuit. Her helmet was in one hand and a tricorder in the other. Her expression was grim as Pr'gn gestured her in. He waited while she strode in, came to attention at his desk, announced herself and that she was '_reporting as ordered_.'

"Sir we have a problem. I went into the Nacelle Service Way and did some scans from there. Most were inconclusive yet again. Actually all but one. I got innovative when I redid the High Band Acoustic Resonance Frequency scan and switched from phasic to polarity shift scan and came up an unusual result." Pr'gn gestured for her to hand him the tricorder as his fingers danced over the office's Miniature System Display/Monitor. The Lunärian continued, "Magnetic band of spectrum from the HiBARF scan reveals a transporter trace. Rate of decay indicates an event occurred approximately 4 hours before Mission Launch. My imaging indicates that the unit was not merely seated improperly, it appears to have been reversed. Sir with a Magnetic Transport wouldn't the entire Nacelle show signs of polarity micro stresses from the intense energy wash?" Pr'gn shook his head,

"Not necessarily Corporal, if it were done from _inside_ the _CHEROKEE_. All you'd have to do is use a tricorder as an imaging scanner and connect it to an emitter pad and use a phaser as a power source. The first Cargo Transporters were just a scanner, emitter and power source. The first transporter pads were just Degaussing units. Thing is, such a transport would take several minutes. T-V, call up the Engineering Diagnostic Log from 1430 on today's Stardate of 49001.7 and examine the EPS portion please." Minutes later, she replied that there were _no anomalies_ and the Diagnostic was _by the book_. Pr'gn winced and announced,

"Then we have a problem, I never do that section by the book. I took a cue from Commodore Dermon and only do the odd-numbered banks until I hit number 7, and then I do the next 3 even numbered units so I can spot-check the backups. That means I don't have to enter the Jeffrie's tube and take the Plasma Coolant Manifold Junction offline to pull it so I can check them from the other side. This way is quicker and easier but is not generally accepted and is not reflected in this diagnostic even though I personally signed off on it within moments of downloading my PADD."

"Then we need to do a magnetic trace scan of everyone aboard to determine who our saboteur is." T-V stated and Pr'gn nodded grimly.

"Start by reconfiguring the internal sensors as we don't need to alert the saboteur or upset everyone if they're not aboard currently."

_**CYGNUS**_

"It's settled then, I'll beam over there and then the _CYGNUS_ will take this new route to the _SPACEDOCK_. Hersh out." The Commodore closed the channel from the _MERCY_, and the screen went back to the view of the Shadowlands. Ses turned to Dermon who was slouching slightly in his Command chair and seemed more than a little distracted.

"Sir even with our enhanced shields, it's going to get rather tight in that '_tunnel_' I'd really recommend someone man the Tactical situation from the Bridge." The Trill suggested while glancing at Petmuus, who was gazing longingly at the station in question.

"Sounds neat. I should probably go meet Hersh when he arrives. Due to the _emergency recall_ order we received via the Shadowcat, I want to ensure that we are battle ready stat." Dermon paused then arose from his seat as though in pain. Having been a Doctor as a former Host, Ses assisted him and said gently,

"Commodore, I'd suggest you go get some rest. You've been under a great deal of stress. You've got two quite capable Nortanians to handle the Bridge for the time being. I will go meet Hersh for you." Dermon nodded and smiled,

"Is this your way of applying to be my personal Physician?"

"No sir, but should that become a career goal of mine, I assure you I am most qualified." Ses replied tit-for-tat to the lighthearted jibe.

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN**_

"Keurh you are at Communications, grab a headset. Ramoth please take Ops." Asimov assigned duty stations to complete Command and Control. Jarrad stood at the Master C&C Display arms folded with a pensive expression as he watched the two fleets take up position on the holographic '_bubble_.' He reached a hand up and began absently stroking his beard. Several minutes later, Keurh broke the silence by announcing,

"We've just lost the comlink with the station on Ch'gr." Ramoth followed immediately with,

"Long-range scanners confirm up to a half dozen discharges of the inverter weapon. Each strike took out a separate section of the facility and left them without the ability to do a field inversion." Jarrad sighed; aboard a space borne vessel, there were numerous backup Batteries and Generators. Some of which relied on the energy of space itself. On a _Terraformed_ planetary body like the outer planet Ch'gr, the inverter was especially heinous since there was no way to invert the Geothermal energy which acted as power source for the colony.

"Maintain 360˚ coverage." Came Jarrad's only response. The Admiral looked over to Keurh as he heard the Bajoran softly chanting. The former Vedek abruptly stopped and apologized if his action was inappropriate or intrusive. Smiling at the Bajoran's serene nature, Jarrad waved a dismissive hand and shrugged his shoulders as he murmured for the other man to feel free to continue. Keurh stopped short as if something occurred to him suddenly and asked,

"All ships have reported ready. Being that we've had two feints, would it not be prudent to reset the Durkin Net at this juncture?"

"Quite right, I guess those attacks would qualify as first contact wouldn't they? Good idea, Lieutenant Commander." Jarrad responded and tossed a quick nod to Ramoth to implement the changes. He watched on the display as a series of ghostly beacons spat forth from the Station to form an intricate net that filled the system. Within seconds, the scanners would compensate for the sensor '_noise_' that caused the ghosting effect and every friendly ship would have a clear field of fire courtesy of their calibrated sensors. In the instant between the net's completion and sensory compensation, Jarrad saw something that made his mouth go dry. It was a hint of something at the edge of visual perception. Almost like the whisper of the gentlest breath of air on satin curtains, but in a visual sense. He heard a gasp of surprise from behind him and realized that Ramoth's genetically-enhanced vision had noted it as well. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she called out a warning just as he shouted to Keurh while pointing an authoritative finger at him,

"Warn the _GALLOWAY_! Incoming cloaked vessels!"

_**GALLOWAY**_

Scott's order to fire phasers and prepare a photon spread came an instant too late. An intense series of disruptor blasts left the newly-repaired vessel crippled yet again. Without a K't'slk drive handy, The AEC had Yeni-rigged a standard Warp Drive. Scott, an Engineer who had been learning some Drakmärian asked why the word for '_Chess_' was used. Pr'gn had informed her that it was due to the strategy of setting up the right sequence of parts to get the item in question to be compatible. Dermon, on the other hand had told her that, to pass the time, Engineers would use spare parts to play Chess during breaks and in emergencies; players had to sacrifice pieces to satisfy a repair need. As the lights went out, Scott grimly thought that her _Queen had just been sacrificed_. As Auxiliary Power came on, she requested a damage report.

"No casualties, but we are completely cut off from the Saucer Section. Tactical is only partially functioning and sensors are down." Lonewolf announced from Tactical. With the _GALLOWAY's_ unique design, the Stardrive Section extended like a cowl up the back of the Saucer Section and terminated just forward of Deck 1. This allowed the main Bridge to remain part of the Battle section in case of an emergency situation.

"Helm unresponsive." Announced Kojiro from his station.

"With sensors down, I'm going to need someone to get to all Observation Ports and scan with tricorders for neutrino field disturbances." Scott ordered looking at Ghulè as the comm officer reinserted her earpiece.

_**DALLAS**_

"Commence saturation firing pattern on the source of those discharges **_NOW_**!" The Captain of the Nebula-class vessel ordered and continued, "What is the status of the _GALLOWAY_?" The Lieutenant at Tactical replied first,

"Two confirmed hits, unable to determine extent of damage caused."

"Mild to moderate damage along most ventral and port sections. Their Main Power is out, and there is no active Subspace Field. I'm also reading an erratic field disturbance at their relative 365 by 287. If it's an attack, they're a sitting duck and they are blocking our field of fire." The Commander at Ops reported.

"The _LEXINGTON_ is in position but they have their own problems. Unless I miss my guess, we're about to have some of our own." Came the response from Tactical.

_**LEXINGTON**_

"Concentration of fire is continuing to vector our own fire away from efforts to aid the _GALLOWAY_ in her predicament." The Vulcan at Ops stated as the Galaxy-class Starship was rocked by another volley. The Captain ordered,

"Send the coordinates of the distortion to our Runabouts and have them run interference."

"Aye sir." Growled the burly Ensign at Tactical.

_**GALLOWAY**_

"We do have a partial spread of three torpedoes loaded that can be fired individually." Lonewolf suggested. As Scott frowned and opened her mouth to reply, T'Kay interjected,

"I've got an idea. Tieth, give me your deck-marking tool. Wolf please remove the Targeting Relay from the Tactical station and reroute the ODN tap to the Bridge's Subspace Transceiver. Captain, please request that the tricorder which has locked onto the anomaly create a dedicated link to mine, its ID number is 329 indigo 12 papa 5/gamma." Lonewolf began the series of compliance by grabbing the edges of the Tactical station and, with a quick jerking motion, ripping the front housing off. Scott sighed,

"Show-off." And the Native American grunted,

"Crude yet effective." While T'Kay kneeled to use the housing as a surface on which to write with the Stylus. She furiously began writing formulae that her comrades quickly lost track of. One section she wrote '_drift compen_' over, and yet another she labeled '_accel compen_'. She also made a note that by its position it could refer to either '_not constant_.' She paused for a second and looked at Lonewolf,

"The partial load was conducted for all tubes, correct?"

"Yes but only the _odd_ numbered ones initiated." She leaned back down and X-ed out an entire section of calculations. She then made a notation '_off-axis plat corr_' and continued her madly-paced longhand computations. She made one final set of calculations labeled '_est target declin_'. Scott softly announced,

"Quickly T'Kay, tricorder shows a power buildup from the distortion. Please give us what you have as we don't have any more time." T'Kay grabbed the tricorder and began manipulating the controls while continuing her manic pace,

"What...I...have...is...a...solution...for…you…and…an…order…for…mister…Wolf …FIRE." She said as she shoved the tricorder into the open Tactical station. Lonewolf didn't need to be asked twice as he punched the appropriate button right as there was a multi-discharge energy bloom from the distortion.

_**CYGNUS**_

"Captain Nelson, I'm leaving you in Command of the remaining craft. Whether you remain aboard the Royal Yacht _TREENOR_ or transfer to the _MERCY_ is up to your discretion. An _emergency recall_ has been issued to Star Corps personnel, and I have taken the position as Exec of the _CYGNUS_. Your only order is to get these craft back to the _SPACEDOCK_." Hersh said to the image on the Bridge's viewscreen. The Nortanian he was addressing answered,

"Understood, Commodore. We wish you and your crew safe journey." Hersh nodded his approval and closed the channel.

"Hardison, get us underway best speed. Ses, I realize you're an Engineer, but you're also the closest I have to an expert on this vessel, so I'd prefer you to stay here on the Bridge. Man the Ops terminal and keep me from blowing this ship up." the adopted Nortanian Prince delegated and the Trill chuckled as he sketched a salute in reply, "Petmuus, I'm as much for the regulations as anyone at Flag Rank but I have never felt the need to snap someone's back to let then know where they and I stand. You were given an order by the CO of this vessel, and I expect you to abide by it to the best of your ability. Furthermore, you stay out of my way and I won't make an issue out of _IT_—am I understood?" From Tactical, he replied with a quiet, succinct, and courteous '_aye sir._' From the use of the word _it_, Petmuus knew that Hersh was telling him. He knew.

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN**_

"Switch display to lock on to area relative to _GALLOWAY_ and the distortion and magnify!" Jarrad commanded as he saw the unmistakable discharge of Romulan disruptor fire emanating from the distortion directed at Commander Scott's helpless vessel. The next thing he saw was surreal. It looked like an Escape Pod jettisoned from the _GALLOWAY_ at an extreme angle and incredibly fast speed. It also looked like either that the Pilot was grossly inexperienced or intoxicated as any course corrections were erratic and sudden. The '_pod_' intersected the flight path of the discharge at an extremely odd angle, but it was enough. The '_pod_' exploded unusually violently, and the nose of a Romulan Warbird was illuminated briefly as another disruptor burst was fired. Due to the explosion, nobody had noticed that the _GALLOWAY_ had seemed to jettison yet another '_pod_'. Another yet following that one as well. From Ops, Ramoth monitored,

"There is no GNA sensory trace emanating from those units leaving the _GALLOWAY_." Jarrad knew that without Guidance Navigational Array sensors active, someone aboard the _GALLOWAY_ had had to preprogram the flight path of the '_pods_' into the thrusters entirely before launch. Jarrad was impressed. They all watched as the second '_pod_' flew through the explosion of the first and impacted with the disruptor fire so close to the cloaked vessel that the explosion washed over the Warbird's '_face_' just as another burst began to illuminate that section yet again. As that discharge began to leave, it impacted the third '_pod_.' Not only did that explosion disable the cloak, but it must have also overloaded the weapons systems as there was a series of explosions seen coming from the Romulan craft and the vessel went dark and adrift.

"Very nice!" Jarrad heard himself say and there were murmurs of approval all around. The mood was broken by J'Cinda who announced,

"Cardassian craft incoming, multiple vectors!" Jarrad quickly consulted his holo-display and said to Keurh,

"Have the _BISMARCK_ break formation and tractor the _GALLOWAY_ to a position near the Station but out of our field of fire."

"Show time people, here come the Jerichans following the Cardies!" Chimed in J'Cinda again.

_**CHEROKEE**_

Pr'gn woke with a start. He was momentarily confused by the unfamiliar surroundings, but the return of the headache he'd been nursing was a fresh reminder of the predicament. He glanced at the chronometer and groaned. The last thing he remembered doing was ordering lunch. That had been 2-3 hours ago and the meal lay on his desk _half-eaten_! Still groggy, he strode out of the office to check on the situation progress and was nearly bowled over by T-V as the massive alien was sneaking a peek around the corner.

"My apologies sir, you didn't respond to the hail from the Bridge so I wanted to ensure you had received it." Pr'gn groaned inwardly. The page had probably been what had awakened him, and he'd neglected to check his messages. Now he felt foolish as well as clueless. He shook his head to clear it and glanced at the nearby monitors to see whether he could glean any pertinent information from them. It proved to be a futile effort but mercifully, T-V took it as some bizarre operational '_pop-quiz_' to be evaluated. She came to attention and reported,

"Sir, the Bridge reports there is no way to avoid the storm short of accelerating beyond tolerances. Simulations indicate we can do this, but the margin of error is slight even if we max out the Structural Integrity and Inertial Dampening Fields. To avoid over stressing the hull, we will approach the storm on a perpendicular approach and then do a micro-warp jump past the storm while only increasing the field tolerance on the starboard Nacelle."

"At ease Corporal. Show me." The Commander gestured with his head toward the Main Systems Display. The female Royal Ranger growled something in her native Lunärian, and a series of displays '_chirp-chirped_' compliance, switching from Static System Readouts to a series of Spooling Dynamic Simulations. As they approached, the Engineer noticed that the same Nortanian was still sitting in the same chair he'd been in before he entered the office over 8 hours ago. Pr'gn joked casually,

"Let me guess, one of three things: You're trying to impress someone with your dedication to your Duty Station, you're just coming on- or off-duty, or you're trying to win the Alliance record for endurance sitting?" The level 4 NCO looked up, startled and nearly stammered in nervousness,

"No sir, I've only been on duty for 10 hours. I still have 15 left to go. I only need 4-6 hours of sleep for every 36 hours, so I'm required to pull a triple-shift, and then I get a full day off." T-V leaned over and murmured into Pr'gn's ear,

"Fresh from the Academy as of last week and has first assignment jitters." For the next 10 minutes, the two discussed the Simulations. Out of the blue, an idea occurred to Pr'gn and he said,

"T-V you're with me, there may yet be another option." As he passed the Warp Core on his way out of Engineering he addressed a Drakmärian who was stationed at the Warp Nacelle Systems Monitor and delegated, "Lieutenant Conerrti, you're Officer of the Deck. Make sure my Nortanian friend there doesn't slack off." He winked at the last part and confirmed the Nortanian saw it and knew he was teasing. Minutes later, as they arrived at the Bridge, T-V entered first according to protocol, came to attention and bellowed,

"Captain on the Bridge!" Everyone on the Bridge snapped to attention. Pr'gn had been following a little too closely and had forgotten that particular protocol. As a result, his ear had only been a couple feet from the Lunärian's mouth during the announcement. The Engineer paused to rub his ear for a moment until the ringing abated. He then noted that everyone was still at attention and said,

"As you were." Pr'gn then turned to the Ops station and asked,

"If I remember my Shadowlands navigation course, these storms only travel as fast as the most excited particles which are always at the lead event horizon, correct?" Te'ana nodded,

"Aye, sir." Pr'gn then ordered,

"Reset the Main Deflector to emit a plasma wavelength beam at the lowest frequency possible. Be sure to maintain saturation at our operating median amplitude. Togur, you're temporarily relieved as I want this to be my responsibility." Pr'gn eased himself into the vacated Helm and immediately took the _CHEROKEE_ to maximum Warp as he concluded, "Antuur, drop shields." There was a murmur of surprise all around until Goodman announced from the center seat,

"I see what he's doing."

_**TANELORN**_

"Admiral, I highly recommend we break formation and take the battle to them. That's what they came here for and we'll never be more ready. We know the Jerichans are not only shrewd, but resourceful and they probably figured out our defense strategy the moment they hit the system. Besides, maintaining this defensive posture on our own doorstep is beginning to wear thin on morale." Larr assessed from Tactical in response to the request coming from the viewscreen. Jarrad's image stroked his van-dyke with the knuckles and was preparing to say something when an offscreen voice made an announcement that was inaudible to those aboard the flagship. O'Camp, who was manning Ops, observed,

"Latest strike has disabled the starboard Nacelle aboard the _RICHLAND_." He then tapped a few keys and a _picture-in-picture_ of the INTREPID-class craft appeared on the lower left section of the main viewer. The image came into view just in time to give all a glimpse of a Jerichan Scout cloaking as it sped from the attack. The Jerichan's had a limited time dephasing system built into their shields to defend against torpedoes and they were using it as a type of cloaking device. This had been happening for a couple hours since the Cardassian ships were keeping their distance from the defenders, and the Romulan fleet was constantly moving while cloaked. While the neutrino web helped to locate cloaked craft, it also helped to obscure the phased craft. The Jerichans had been activating their phase long enough to approach one of the defenders stealthily and then would decloak long enough to make a quick strike and take off. So far, all the damage to the ships had been relatively mild. By the time Potter had given O'Camp the order to close the image, the Nacelle was already beginning to glow blue again. Jarrad nodded grimly and said tightly with his lips thinning over clenched teeth,

"The order is given; _break formation and attack_. Authorization: _Jarrad Romeo Foxtrot 72 kappa_." In response, Potter ordered,

"Helm ahead full impulse, let's take the fight to those Cardassians. Mr. Larr, give them a taste of our new Megaphaser cannon and quite liberal chaser of quantum torpedoes, shall we?"

_**LANGLEY**_

"Port shields are down by 32. Life support on decks 8 through 12 is failing. Forward phaser bank is down." Came the report from Tactical. The Bolian Lieutenant had just been promoted a week ago, and this was his first non-simulation combat. The sheer speed, volume, and reality of the damages were beginning to make him sweat.

"You're doing fine, let 'em eat torpedoes as a _thank you_ for the _love tap_. Helm, bring us hard about and keep us moving while keeping them guessing." The maturing Black woman in the Center Seat ordered as she wiped blood off her cheek. The EXCELSIOR-class Starship was not only confronting a flight of Jerichan fighters but what appeared to be two Romulan Warbirds as well.

"One of the 3 torpedoes connected. The remaining fighters are regrouping. Incoming Romulan disruptor fire!" The attack resulted in the destruction of Science station 2, and there was the acrid stench of burnt fur as the Caitian who was manning the Engineering station did what appeared to be a clumsy cartwheel. Although she could tell from her years of experience it was a futile gesture, the Captain requested,

"Medical team to the Bridge! Status?" The officer at Ops reported,

"Primary impulse reactor is down, secondary is 63 and falling. Aft shields and sensors are down. We have a sporadic sensor reading at 83 mark 276."

_**GLADIATOR**_

"Helm keep us between the _LANGLEY's_ port side and those fighters, don't let those Warbirds distract you." The Captain watched as the young woman's shoulders hunched as she concentrated on her flying.

"A-aye sir." She stammered compliance. She'd just completed her training cruise aboard a GALAXY-class starship less than a month ago and was privately still getting used to the vastly different feel of the DEFIANT-class starship's handling. She swallowed hard as she saw the fighters trying to bracket the _GLADIATOR_ in an attempt to do an end run on the _LANGLEY_. Halfway through her positioning the ship into standard defensive posture, she hit the braking thrusters and spun the ship hard thinking that the Tactical officer could hit the fighters from behind. Unfortunately from her perspective, the Jerichans swung their formation toward the EXCELSIOR-class ship's stern. She groaned inwardly. For a brief instant, the Lieutenant manning Tactical was wondering what type of maneuver the new lady at the helm was trying to accomplish. The maneuver had taken their line of fire around the fighters, and they were now facing perpendicular to the formation's path. If the Jerichans did a 180°, they would have a clear shot at the _GLADIATOR's_ Bridge. The pitch of their momentum was arcing the Starfleet vessel toward the saucer section of its sister craft right as the fighters began their attack run. As the formation came around the far end of the warp nacelle, the Tactical officer had only an instant to react as the lead fighter and the _GLADIATOR's_ firing plane intersected. The quad phasers made short order of the 5 craft.

_**STORMER**_

"Tell the _STARFURY_ to break off current engagement and form on us and follow our lead." The Captain had stopped counting the number of combat engagements he'd been years ago. Which was why the Admiral in charge of the _STORMER's_ Task Force had asked him to take her nephew under his wing. He'd agreed, and then he'd found that the young man had been given the Command of another Defiant-class starship. The Captain knew that the young Commander's career had been '_fast-tracked_' since he'd been an Administrative Aide to a Starbase Commander. If the young man wanted combat experience, he'd give him combat experience. Ops announced,

"_STARFURY_ has complied; they await further orders."

"Tell them to try to keep up; commence attack pattern '_hit and run_'…Engage!"

_**STARFURY**_

"Keep moving, don't stop firing at anything in range. If I read the good Captain's intentions correctly, we're returning the annoyance factor that they've been giving the fleets the past couple hours." He knew full well that he had to prove himself twice as hard to be half as good. The promotion had been his idea and not his aunt's, contrary to popular opinion. He'd grown tired of the '_good old boys club_' routine that was an Administration and knew the only graceful way out was expressing interest in starship Command. Otherwise, he would probably have been seen as a pariah in the sector. As it was, he still had to overcome a certain degree of prejudice. But, he knew that if there were something you believed in soundly enough, it was worth fighting for…whether it be Religion, Politics or, in this case, Career choice. He watched the _STORMER_ break off from a Jerichan Scout and engage a nearby Warbird as his own vessel fired three torpedoes before following suit. He knew all three ideals were at stake here. Almost every officer was praying to make it through the day but knew that a valuable ally would be compromised if they played it safe, and they had all sworn an oath to do what needed to be done, regardless of the consequences. Thus far, the two Defiant-class craft were doing quite well, eight attackers had suffered mild-to-moderate damage and two had been incapacitated. By moving at full impulse the two Starfleet craft weren't easy targets, yet the _STORMER_ had taken some mild damage to the bow, and the _STARFURY's_ aft torpedo launcher had been disabled.

_**GUANTAÑAMO BAY**_

"Starboard shields have failed! Life support on decks 6-9 is out. Deck 7, section 38 hull integrity compromised."

"Bring us to 210 mark 09 and fire torpedoes spread pattern '_Hotel_.' Divert power to port sh…"

"Pod automation is down, can only fire single shot. Primary port EPS conduit is damaged, recommend against power diversion."

"Noted, fire torpedoes for saturation effect then. The Nebula-class Achilles' heel strikes again! Until the pod and shields have been restored, let's remind them that we have ventral phasers."

_**RICHLAND**_

"The Jerichan can't match our maneuverability Captain, we're still managing to keep ahead of them both." The Lieutenant at Ops reported. The Asian in the center seat replied in his typically serene manner,

"Thank you young man. I trust that none of you will use the good Lieutenant's report as an excuse to get overly cocky?" There was a light round of laughter that swept across the Bridge. The Captain loved his crew and they all knew it. He wanted to ensure they didn't make any mistakes due to the stress of the moment. They respected him all the more because he treated them as family. He turned in his chair and grinned,

"Now son, as soon as you inform me that the subspace field has been completely rebalanced, we will be back in business."

"Sure thing boss. Only a matter of seconds as they're reinitializing the Nacelle damaged by the sneak-attack now." The Captain stepped forward and put a hand on the shoulder of the officer manning the Helm,

"Young lady, bring us about." He then turned and graciously extended a hand in the direction of the Tactical station and nodded as he concluded, "Now Lieutenant Commander, let's show those heathens what this INTREPID-class is truly capable of shall we?" She smiled widely and chuckled,

"Aye aye boss." She then proceeded to fire a spread of torpedoes at the far Jerichan while using an intense volley of phaser fire on the near one. One of the phaser blasts struck home, and there was an explosion as the _RICHLAND_ sped past to careen between the two. The other Jerichan pulled away hard, and the torpedoes hit at an angle too obtuse to be of significant effect. The angle of their evasive maneuver made it a simple course correction for the _RICHLAND_ to go from pursued to the pursuer.

_**TANELORN**_

"Yes! We are untouchable! That makes four!" Larr chortled gleefully from Tactical as yet another Cardassian fell to the Flagship's firepower. The Drakmärian manning the Helm quickly turned and threw his Prince a thumbs-up, an action which drew a reproving look from Potter. O'Camp tapped a few keys and mused,

"A little too untouchable. All the opposing ships are taking a defensive posture toward us and much of the damage we've sustained is mild, compared to standard Cardassian combat tactics." Potter, who had studied Cardassians since his parents had been killed by them, got an odd look on his face. For the first time O'Camp could recall, _both_ of the pale Admiral's eyebrows shot upwards.

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN**_

"Now that you mention it, it _does_ seem odd." Jarrad responded to Potter's transmission apprising the Spacedock of their analysis. The Grand Admiral turned to Ramoth and requested a similar analysis from a fleet perspective. Jarrad winced as the Genetically-engineered female responded in her usual loud manner,

"Yes sir. I see it too. Our two fleets have been segregated, and the Alliance ships aren't taking near the beating the Federation ships are." A surprised Jarrad ordered,

"Forward that information to all craft and order a regroup!" From just behind and above him, Jarrad heard J'Cinda announce,

"Incoming cloaked vessels! Multiple discharges!" Jarrad turned in time to see the discharges strike the station on the Monitor. There was a crackling '_pop_' from part of the Tactical station, and the Drakmärian female jumped out of the way as part of the Panel blew out. The force of the explosion pushed her harder in the direction of her jump and carried her over the railing. With her natural grace, she twisted so she could land feet first. Before she could complete the maneuver, she collided with Jarrad who gazed into her striking amethyst eyes and quipped,

"Well J'Cinda, this is hardly the time to be flirting, but I can…" She interrupted him by saying in typical Drakmärian style,

"That's not a flirt, _this_ is a flirt!" And she proceeded to give him a deep passionate kiss. Not one to be outdone, Jarrad replied smoothly while licking his lips,

"Hmm _tasty_, after a course like that, you leave one interested in seconds."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing." J'Cinda answered as she made her way back to her station. There was a chorus of groans from the rest of the C&C crew.

_**VIGILANT**_

"Helm, if those fighters get behind us once more you are relieved!" The Captain screamed into his subordinate's ear. He believed that if he didn't keep his crew constantly on their toes and demanding at least 100, they were likely to make mistakes. He continued his tirade as the junior officer furiously manipulated the controls,

"Starfleet doesn't train people to make mistakes. So either they didn't train you right, or you are incompetent!" The Captain believed himself to be a rare breed of officer that Starfleet just wasn't putting out officers of his caliber any more. In his ascent through the ranks, his zealous ambition had garnered him some favors. He used those favors to get assigned to a training vessel that could help him weed out the lesser elements within the lower ranks. The Captain demanded,

"Where are those fighters now!" The officer at Tactical stated evenly,

"Off our port bow. They are running active scanners and can detect that the EPS manifold tap for the phasers is down. If you'd consider rescinding your previous order of maneuvering thrusters only and speed us up, I'd have more options." The Captain threw up his arms in exasperation and shouted,

"_FINE_!" He then stared accusingly at the Tactical officer and snarled,

"This INTREPID-class should be more than able to handle a flight of Fighters, what is your problem?" The Lieutenant at Ops frowned, sighed, and replied tightly knowing what was coming next since he'd seen it happen before to others,

"We _are_ handling them. There's just a _dozen_ of them which requires…" The Lieutenant was stopped as the Captain stormed across the Bridge pointing a finger, yelling,

"You are being rude, disrespectful, and out of order! You are hereby reduced in rank to Ensign and relieved of your position! You are restricted to quarters until your Court Martial, now get off my Bridge!"

_**TANELORN**_

"We've received a regroup order from the Spacedock and almost all Star Corps vessels are clear. The Starfleet ships are doing their best." Larr monitored. All eyes were on O'Camp as he continued to analyze the data on his Terminal. After several tense moments, the Captain announced,

"After a thorough scan, I've determined that those Cardassian crafts are all KELDAR-class and not GALOR-class which is extremely unusual because you don't usually see that class this far out of Cardassian space." Potter replied saying,

"That's because that class is usually reserved for the use of the Obsidian Order. If they are mostly pursuing Federation craft that must be the purpose to this endeavor." O'Camp chorused the final part of his statement, "_They are probably trying to convince the Federation it's dangerous to be our ally_." Potter then proceeded to forward the men's suspicions to the Spacedock.

_**ARK ROYAL**_

"Confirmed Admiral, we were beginning to wonder about your fleet's unusually grand flow of good fortune ourselves. I shall have our ships form an inner line of defense to compensate. Jade out" The Commodore closed the channel and ordered the Helmsman to bring them about. Jade turned to face the Tactical station and asked,

"How are my shields coming along?" The Tactical officer responded without looking up from the station,

"Well forward and starboard are still down to minimum, aft is at one-half and port is pretty solid. That said, since the primaries have already been replaced, I can reboot the system by dropping the shields. That will give us about 2/3 to 3/4 power, but it's better than where we are now." The Commodore nodded her approval and turned back to sit in the center seat. She glanced over to the Ops position where Lieutenant Templeton was seated. The Commander who normally filled that position had been injured and Templeton was acquitting herself nicely. The Etuman suddenly gasped as a Jerichan Scout decloaked in front of them and discharged the '_SONIC Jammer_' weapon. Knowing the shield grid wasn't quite ready yet, Jade ordered the Megaphaser fired. The two weapons struck their targets simultaneously. The Jerichan ship exploded as it split in two. Aboard the upgraded EXCELSIOR-class starship, all activity came to a sudden stop as all subspace field activity came to an abrupt halt. Templeton cried out in pain and whipped her Relay device off her face. She lifted the spectacles up tentatively and peered through them in the dim emergency lighting. She groaned as she saw they were non-operational because of the field effect of the enemy attack. She started to set them aside on a flat surface of her panel when she noticed that the unit spontaneously came back to life. She slid them back on and announced,

"My EAR resets its buffer every couple seconds to clear the display and it fixed the malfunction. You can probably reset ship's Subspace Field the same way." Power was restored within moments.

_**VIGILANT**_

The turbolift doors slid closed on the disgraced officer, and the furious Captain turned and faced the Tactical officer who was staring at the now-closed doors. As the Captain haughtily assumed the vacated Ops station, he snarled,

"Excuse me! This is combat, not a spectator sport. Is there another problem with defending ourselves against those fighters or are you going to start crying about your little playmate!" Swallowing down the anger that was welling up, the Tactical officer glanced down at the station and reported,

"We are receiving a _recall order_ to establish an inner perimeter around the Station. It seems that the opposing force is focusing on the Federation craft, and the Alliance ships are going to have us help them to outflank them." The Captain got an incredulous look on his face and retorted,

"That's probably since those attackers think that Starfleet ships can't handle…" The Tactical officer saw something on the display, glanced away to see what it was, and tried to announce an incoming attack—but the Captain would have nothing to do with it, "Don't you _dare_ look away from me when I am addressing you! I am your superior officer and I am getting completely disgusted with the complete lack of discip……" The Captain never got a chance to finish his tirade as the lead fighter struck the INTREPID-class starship's deflector dish. In one incredible moment of clarity, the _VIGILANT's_ Captain realized that he'd allowed himself to get distracted. The one thing he was absolutely sure of was that the future of this crew did not include him. In his arrogance, he believed that he should have requested a GALAXY-class starship that way he could have dealt with officers of potential. Perhaps if he managed to single-handedly save the two fleets, the powers that be would recognize that he deserved not only a promotion but even a more prestigious Command! In a blinding flash of what he felt was uplifting insight, he imagined himself as a Commodore commanding a Task Force from the Bridge of the Flagship. In reality, the blinding flash was the exploding console next to him and the uplifting sensation he felt was the impact carrying him halfway across the Bridge.

_**STORMER**_

"Captain, the Romulans must have realized what we're doing. We are being flanked by several Warbirds." Came the report from Ops. Thinking quickly, The Captain ordered,

"Stand fast. Tell the _STARFURY_ to clear out and we'll cover for them."

_**STARFURY**_

"Are any of the Warbirds breaking off to engage us?"

"Negative sir, the _STORMER_ crippled the first and destroyed the second. The third got a bead on her ventral surface and scored a direct hit. The _STORMER's_ shields are down, and her Main Computer is failing. Primary phaser interlink to Warp Drive has failed and they're only firing one torpedo at a time rather than their usual _Oscar_-pattern spread." The Commander noted that the Bridge crew was casting furtive glances at each other and knew what they were thinking. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly and said firmly,

"I realize that we've been given express orders by a superior. But, we swore an oath that I feel supersedes those orders. Anyone who disagrees with my interpretation, can feel free to be relieved without fear of reprisal." Without facing him, one of the officers stated,

"With all due respect sir, we're wasting valuable time."

"Okay people. _Smash-and-grab_ time." Right as life support failed aboard the _STORMER_, the _STARFURY_ performed a modified version of the '_Picard Maneuver_.' It fired a first salvo _before_ the warp jump and then attacked the _second_ ship _after_ the jump. As the DEFIANT-class Escort ship approached its sister ship, it fired a continuous salvo of torpedoes from the newly-repaired aft launcher as it affixed a tractor beam and made good their departure.

_**RICHLAND**_

"That last hit took us down to 1/4 impulse. Our reactor is at 120˚ of capacity and will go critical in…_ow_!" The officer at the Helm cried out as shower of sparks scorched her uniform arm along with the back of her hand. The Captain strode over and requested,

"You've done fine young lady. Get to sickbay and I'll handle this station." She started to protest, and the mature Asian raised a dismissive hand while smiling. She nodded graciously and made a beeline for the turbolift while cradling her injured arm. Suddenly, the Lieutenant Commander manning Tactical called out,

"Incoming fire! They're targeting the Bridge!" The Captain reached over to hit the maneuvering controls in a smooth motion right as the console's damaged section blew out again. Since the Captain was standing at an angle above the console, he received the brunt of the impact on his front and side. The impact threw him past the station's chair to land in a prone heap halfway back to his Command chair. The Bridge crew paused in shock for a split-second as the Helm went dark. The Inertial Dampening Field went out simultaneously, and the Bridge crew all watched as the starfield jerked in concert with the impact of the next couple shots the INTREPID-class starship withstood. The Lieutenant at Ops broke the silence by announcing as a couple Medics rushed onto the Bridge,

"Incoming message from the _GLADIATOR_ on screen." They looked at the viewer as the medics busied themselves with the Bridge crew's motionless Captain. The image of the _GLADIATOR's_ Bridge was one of chaos. The Captain's dark Hispanic features were marred by an ugly gash that went from her forehead to cheek and left her eye nearly closed. Flames and smoke were pouring from several panels behind and to the side of the image. The image was completed by the wild-eyed young woman at the Helm whose hair was nowhere near regulation.

"As long as you folks don't mind being rescued by a bunch of women, the cavalry has arrived." The image's attention was diverted by a voice coming from the direction of Tactical, "It seems that the _Cardies_ don't have much appreciation for the fairer sex. So it appears that we'll be running interference for the _LEXINGTON_ and _EUSTIS_ instead."

**_LEXINGTON_**(SAUCER SECTION)

"Separation complete Captain, now heading to rendezvous with _RICHLAND_ to attach tractor beam" The Commander sitting in the Center Seat addressed the image on the viewer. He allowed himself only a slight pang of regret as he watched the Stardrive Section speed ahead to join the battle. He then proceeded to give orders by making a single statement. He didn't like to waste words or effort,

"Set course to intercept the _RICHLAND_. We will not be stopping in this operation so have the tractor prepared. Stay sharp everyone, we will all be especially vulnerable." They all murmured '_aye sir_' except for the officer at the Helm who made a Religious gesture appropriate to the officer's culture. The Commander did not agree with the display, but his Captain had not commented on it so he shrugged it off and returned his attention to the current task.

**_LEXINGTON_**(STARDRIVE SECTION)

"Maintain support position, the other two vessels seem to have the situation well in hand." The Captain ordered as he watched the progress of his First Officer's Command of the Saucer Section on the small monitor built into his chair. The Vulcan was curious about how this operation would result as this was the first time the two sections of the GALAXY-class starship had been separated. He watched with detached interest as the _EUSTIS_ raced into the fray ahead of his ship seemingly interested in joining the battle.

_**EUSTIS**_

"Maintain attack posture. We have to continue to keep them away from the _RICHLAND_." The Captain announced as he watched the Megaphaser blasts lance out alternatively from the dual emplacements on the EXCELSIOR-class starship's Warp Nacelle Pylons. The Bajoran saw an enemy ship trying to outflank the other Starfleet vessel and ordered a course correction to intercept. The Cardassian adjusted course as well and fired, striking the port Warp Nacelle. This disabled the Cannon on that strut as well as damaged the shields on that side. The course the Cardassian was taking kept it out of position of the other side's Cannon. The Captain scowled at the shrewdness of his people's sworn enemy and changed tactics by ordering reliance on torpedoes instead. Before succumbing to the torpedoes, the Cardassian managed to do further damage to the port shields as well as weaken the forward and dorsal grid as well which left their port Saucer phasers at a disadvantage. Aside from a lot of smoke on the Bridge, things were still going quite smoothly. As another Cardassian fell to the _EUSTIS_' phasers, the Captain mused,

"Add another to the tally. Request the _GLADIATOR_ keep tabs above and behind until we can full shields back. Reduce speed to 1/4 impulse and divert reactor power as needed. Thank the Prophets for our fortune thus far."

_**GLADIATOR**_

The DEFIANT-class starship's shields had failed minutes ago, yet her Ablative armor was holding. According to sensors, the _RICHLAND_ was less than a minute from the point where they could break off. Of course, sensors were intermittent at best currently. The condition of their impulse engine was such the crew had to push the system to its limit to maintain with the _EUSTIS_' maneuvering until the other vessel's shields were restored. Mercifully, the EXCELSIOR-class starship reduced speed to maneuvering thrusters. The Captain swept blood from the eye that wasn't swollen as she did her best to divert power from the primary starboard EPS Manifold, which was jammed, to the secondary. To no avail. Of the Bridge crew, only the original Helmsman and the replacement Tactical officer remained. The Bridge access had been cut off several minutes ago, and 5 good officers lay on the deck, dead or dying. They could only '_see_' directly ahead; courtesy of some creative jury-rigging by an Engineering crewman in the instant before the Bridge Engineering terminal completely failed. Three of the 4 sections of the Ops display had blown out, killing one officer and incapacitating another. She was getting frustrated as she had to keep cycling the 4 displays through the remaining monitor to complete her task. Tactical was almost as bad and the Helm was the only station that was nearly intact. The Captain finally managed at least partial Manifold pressure diverted to the secondary. This was a poor compromise considering the situation. She then turned and asked the other two officers how they were faring. It wasn't until both women gave her puzzled looks that the Captain realized she'd asked in her native Portuguese. As she began to repeat herself, another blast connected. This one completely blew out the starboard EPS system and caused the Tactical station to blow out in the face of the officer stationed there. The Captain watched helplessly as her friend's chair was uprooted by the force of it. The now dead woman had just gotten married a little over a month ago. The young woman at the Helm announced from her flickering station,

"Helm is unresponsive. Best I can tell is that we are in a flat spin to port, and we have three Cardassians in that direction." The Captain sighed in defeat,

"It looks like the port quad phasers are still intact. Divert all available to them and lock them into a continual cycle." As the Ensign stood, her chair spun and bumped her malfunctioning station. Directly under her station was a Power Tap on the verge of an overload. The impact was just enough to send it out of alignment, and the resulting explosion sent the young woman flying into the Tactical display to land next to her recently departed comrade in a heap with two shattered legs and a badly sprained arm. With heroic effort, the Helm officer reached over her head and pulled herself up so she could see the remaining operational section of the Tactical station. She then tried to reach the controls with her injured arm, but it had already begun to cramp so bad it wouldn't respond. In an agonizing move, she grabbed her bad arm with the good one so she could lean on it to reach the controls with her good arm. As she did so, the Captain noticed an out of place indicator suddenly come on from the flickering Helm station. Through her screaming headache, it took the Captain a fatal moment to recognize what the telltale meant. In one final brutal moment of clarity, the Captain screamed in horror,

"Captain to Engineering, eject the…………!"

_**EUSTIS**_

"_GLADIATOR_ is dead stick! It looks like firing her phasers that last time jammed them active! The Power Tap's heat sink overload is causing a systemic EPS cascade failure! The power failure is causing their backup reactor to go into meltdown!" The Deltan male at Ops called out. The Captain nearly smiled ironically; this was one time when the Lieutenant Junior Grade's excitable tendency to be excessively dramatic was not out of place. With a determined calm he wasn't sure he actually felt, the Bajoran ordered,

"Transfer shield power to the transporters. Have transporters beam over _everybody_, regardless of how lacking in life signs. I don't want to explain to the Prophets that I let anyone's funeral be to burn in the vacuum of space if I could have prevented it." With that he saw the Deltan's jaw stop working nervously to be replaced by a more determined set. The transports were nearly done when one of the Cardassian ships scored a lucky hit. Just between the Warp Nacelles. The resulting explosion took out the Inertial Dampening Field and slammed the aft section of the _EUSTIS_ to pitch down about 50˚. For a brief moment, the Captain thought he felt sick to his stomach and then realized that it was only the Artificial Gravity failing and the backup kicking in. He vaulted the railing between himself and the Bridge Engineering section. He groaned inwardly as he realized the readings were erratic from the Engineering section. For most of the section, Structural Integrity had failed. Artificial Gravity was at minimum and falling. Life support was steady, but there was a massive subspace field buildup since the starboard Nacelle had been blown clear of its housing. In a desperate move, he improvised,

"Purge the Engineering section's Plasma Manifold and take the primary computer off-line!" The Engineer next to him protested,

"But Sir, that will cause _life-support_ to fail…"

"There's plenty of air down there. They don't have enough Gravity to be able to eject the Warp Core before the elements go into deconstriction enough to cause a coolant leak. And without the main computer, the _fail-safes_ won't shunt the Subspace Field by default." The Engineer looked up, quite impressed and said,

"Your method prevents the impulse reactor from resetting so it can modify the field's variance. Very nice!"

**_LEXINGTON_**(STARDRIVE SECTION)

The instant the _GLADIATOR's_ port side had failed; the GALAXY-class starship had gone to full impulse. It had only covered half the distance during the time the dead, spinning starship's cycling phasers had crippled the first Cardassian and moderately damaged the second. The second had been the one which had made the lucky hit on the _EUSTIS_. The Cardassian had been hit during the last couple cycles as it swerved to avoid striking the detached Warp Nacelle. The third Cardassian had been rendered impotent by the _LEXINGTON_ as it came around to deliver the _coup de grace_ on the crippled EXCELSIOR-class starship.

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN**_

The _CYGNUS_ had appeared just moments ago on Ramoth's scanners as it cleared the Shadowland's local event horizon. Jarrad had been informed that the Engineering Support Vessel's Tactical capability was severely compromised but they'd stand by if any vessel needed to evacuate. Dermon had already seen to the integrity of his starship's enhanced shields. Hersh had also informed Jarrad that, although it had been moderately damaged in a battle a couple days ago and was just now on its way to Nortania, the Grand Paladin _MAGAR Hound_ was diverting to lend assistance. A thought had occurred to Jarrad following an offhand comment by O'Camp about how many Jerichan Scout craft there were, but he'd dismissed it. Unbeknownst to them all, if the _CYGNUS_ had done a scan of the area outside the neutrino field they would have spotted three Jerichan Fatherships laying in wait.

_**CHEROKEE**_

"Ops, plot me a course equidistant between the leading edge of the storm and the wall of this tunnel." Immediately after Te'ana indicated completion, Pr'gn concluded his request. "Thank you, now please overlay it on the main viewer." As they approached the storm, Pr'gn made some minor course corrections. With the shields down, life support and the inertial dampening and structural integrity fields were all being taxed to their limits. The storm rapidly filled one side of the viewer. The plasma heat or the tension of the moment was beginning to have its effect. They all began to sweat. From the center seat, Goodman felt the Destroyer begin to shiver as they encountered the physical energy waves coming off the storm. Due to the size of the storm, it would take them several seconds to get past it even at maximum Warp. Right as they got to the point where they were actually in front of the perimeter flowing edge of the storm, they could actually see '_tongues_' of plasma being cast away by the fury of the storm. Despite the distance, one of these got too close to the _CHEROKEE_ before burning itself out and an alarm went off on one of the consoles. Pr'gn was so intent in his task that he wasn't sure who was reporting as he absorbed the information.

"The prominence blew out one of the sensors for the Nacelle Ignition Sequencers. The sequencer failed to reinitialize, and the stream is now out of alignment. Due to this the Nacelle plasma is on the verge of deionizing. The intermix ratio is rapidly dropping which is causing the Coolant Manifold Pressure to increase. Our Warp Field integrity is also dropping and taking our speed with it. Subspace field is now in imminent danger of collapse!" Without thinking, Pr'gn proceeded flip the beleaguered starship 180˚ until it was clear of the storm. From the First Officer's chair, Togur intoned,

"That was innovative." Pr'gn relinquished the Helm back and addressed the lady in his chair,

"Gigi, don't get too comfortable. I'm going to go do a diagnostic, and I'll be back for my seat." Goodman chuckled as the remainder of the Bridge crew groaned in response to his wanting to partake in his consistently favorite pastime. As the Engineer reached the door, he gestured for T-V to accompany him and she replied,

"I'll be with you in a moment sir. This terminal has to be reset as it's not reading the port Nacelle." Pr'gn didn't even get 5 meters before he heard a shout from behind him through the closed Bridge door. An Instant later, he was thrown to the ground by a muffled explosion from that direction and all the lights went out in his section. In the moment before the Emergency Lights came on, a dazed Pr'gn noted peripherally that the lights in the next section were fine. He grabbed an Emergency Supply Kit from a wall console and ran to the door. The door failed to open and didn't respond to the Actuator Control in the wall or the Emergency Attachment Paddle from his kit. He was preparing to tap his comm to contact the Bridge occupants when there was a loud succession of several rhythmic bangs. There was the loud groan of metal on metal, and the door began to move, centimeter by centimeter. Once it had opened far enough, T-V peeked out and said,

"Internal communications are down, have the Bridge crew transported to Sickbay." Without thinking, Pr'gn tapped his badge and realized that T-V was right. It was then that the full effect of what the Lunärian had said came into focus. The Engineer ran for the next section's nearest comm panel at a dead run. Once he'd made the call and transport had been confirmed by the Doctor, Pr'gn trotted over to Sickbay. Right as he was rounding the last corner, he nearly collided with T-V for the second time that day. Pr'gn opened his mouth to speak but T-V, obviously in much pain, beat him to it,

"My apologies Sir but we must get to Engineering stat. The EPS primary just behind the Bridge has failed and the secondary is leaking heavily due to our modifications from the Nacelle problem. The port field isn't collapsing as we'd thought and as it increases, the network field ratio algorithm is transferring the additional Cochrane value to the Waveguide Converters." Pr'gn groaned,

"So even though our Subspace Field is rapidly losing integrity, we are still accelerating. Did you try contacting Engineering?" T-V indicated that she'd tried to no avail. When they entered Engineering, the scene before them stopped them in their tracks. The Main Barrier was down, and the crew was still inside. Pr'gn looked over to where the Nortanian had been sitting and saw him slumping over his station. With an effort, he reached over to a section of his panel and tapped a few buttons. Before he slumped back down, he pointed a finger at Pr'gn and nodded. The adopted Drakmärian looked over at T-V who was sitting at the station to which the Nortanian had transferred his terminal. T-V announced, her voice was tight yet firm,

"They were in the process of ejecting the Warp Core when _life support_ began to fail in this area; they sealed Engineering off to preserve atmosphere for the rest of the ship as they continued their task."

"While they are in there we have to come up with another option. We are less than 5 minutes from exiting the Shadowlands. Prepare your plan for _explosive removal of the damaged nacelle_." Pr'gn replied with a determined set to his jaw. Pr'gn sat down next to her and as she busied herself with her task, Pr'gn began preparing his ship for the task. _It was not as beautiful as the _TANELORN_, but this crew had been through a lot in the past day, and he was beginning to think of them as family—his family. This venture had taught him two things; one: he was tired of space travel for a while and two: there was something he actually liked about having Command…figure that_! T-V broke into his thoughts by interjecting,

"Nacelle Removal Program complete and awaiting your order, Captain. Is there anywhere you want this aimed?" Pr'gn was looking at the Monitor above his Terminal and watching as it showed them leaving the Shadowlands. He shook his head and started to say,

"Just make it deep spa…" but stopped himself abruptly at the image he saw on the scanners. The Durkin net _defensive satellite network_ had encased the entire system in a translucent cloud. The Engineer knew this '_cloud_' was employed as a protective measure against Cloaked attackers. Silhouetted against that cloud were the unmistakable outlines of two Jerichan Fatherships! Sensors also indicated the presence of _high-energy discharges_ in the vicinity of Drakmär IV! In the back of his mind Pr'gn noted no active Subspace Field from the outermost _Terraformed_ colony of Ch'gr but there were definite battle scars on key sections of the installation. His countenance darkening, Pr'gn snarled while indicating the aft area of the lead Fathership,

"Correction, right there!" With a humorless grin, T-V concurred and complied, while murmuring,

"You know Sir, there may be hope for you yet you're starting to think like a Striker." The two comrades watched as the damaged Nacelle separated from its pylon with a suddenness that shook the whole ship. The system reaction aboard the _CHEROKEE_ was immediate. They not only dropped out of Warp, but went adrift as well. The Manifold Block on the Nacelle pylon failed under the sudden release of pressure and Main Power failed as all the plasma was vented into space. The overload caused the primary ODN system trunk to collapse; this had a cascade effect across the ship. The _CHEROKEE_ had died within transporter reach of the monitoring station on Ch'gr and neither crew had working transporters. The released Nacelle did its intended task with cold quiet efficiency. The aft ship managed to activate its phase-cloak, but the hypersaturated Subspace Field combined with the proximity of the other ship's explosion still managed to destroy the vessel. As the crew awaited their fate, Pr'gn detailed his thoughts on the contents of his report to T-V's superiors. The Lunärian did not exactly agree with all of the officer's insights but understood that was the difference in being a leader. For example, while working on the Flagship construction, he insisted that all his Department Heads wear a clean uniform and report to him after performing inspections at regular intervals. He had demanded no less than excellent ratings from everyone on the project and once disciplined 91 people for less than professional disposition while on-duty. The senior officers had tried to get leniency by claiming they were just relieving stress. He had replied it was not a high-stress situation and they should found a more appropriate time and place for their antics. On the other hand, when Dermon had insisted the _CYGNUS_ be able to proceed under its own power as soon as possible, it was a different story. The team rebuilding the Waveguide Converters had failed to get an Operational Performance level 3 times before systemic failure occurred. They were on their last set of parts and another set would take a 2 hour wait to get replicated. Not only were they 30 minutes from the end of shift, but they were the only 5 people certified for this job on the mission. Things got started when a Nortanian asked a Drakmärian to toss him his tricorder. The throw was long and another Nortanian caught it instead. This turned into a game of _keep away_ until Pr'gn showed up. Pr'gn asked the Nortanian to hand it over and he did so with a sigh. Pr'gn asked who it belonged to and they all pointed out the owner. With a grin, he tossed it to a Drakmärian while laughing "_too bad for him_" and the game continued for another 5 minutes. He finally gestured for the seniormost to field it to the owner. There was some comradely back-slapping and banter and he said it was a "_good game gentlemen, now let's put some of that energy into getting it right this time_" which they did. It was the Chief Engineer's position that the greater the stress of the task, the more leeway can be given to personal style…as evidenced by his unique method of performing the diagnostic.

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN**_

Jarrad watched as the regrouped fleet commenced the attack. He was beginning to tire. It had been almost 18 hours since he'd had any rest, and this battle had been happening for the past 6. He grimaced as the battleship _INGRAM_ took a direct hit to the Deflector and most of the lights on her Primary Hull went dark. Mercifully, the Cardassian quickly lost interest after disabling her. Jarrad took grim satisfaction as the next moment the Juggernaut _GOLIATH_ and the Striker-Scout _KRIZU_ nailed the Cardassian in a wicked crossfire. He also noted that the Battleship _KRIEGGOTT_ was acquitting herself nicely although she had a Nacelle that was leaking plasma badly. Her Captain had not allowed two Jerichan Scouts to outmaneuver him in a potentially deadly _pincer_ attack. The Destroyers _INTENSITY_, _CHIEFTAIN-A_, and _CRUSADER_ were all playing a type of '_zone offense_' in that they were in a loose formation to each other and using only thrusters to maneuver. Any ship that attacked one had to deal with all three and the Destroyers were heading deeper into the thick of the battle. Only a few of the Romulans made it through the line and the ones who did were quickly handled by the waiting Starfleet craft. After about 2 hours of this, during which 8 of the Star Corps starships were disabled, the _MAGAR Hound_ arrived. The Nortanian Grand Paladin literally swooped in, birdlike. Though tired, the Grand Admiral could readily spot the damage from the recent battle it was returning from. The Frigate _KESTREL_ had just taken one hit more than it could handle and was using its one remaining thruster to retreat when the _MAGAR Hound_ intervened and smashed the attacking Romulan with its blasters. The _MAGAR Hound_, still on the move, then launched its contingent of 4 Paladins and 12 Stingers. Over the comlink, Jarrad heard the Flight Leader for the Nortanian fighter craft announce,

"Stinger contingent form up on ROGUE fighters. We're here to act as backup." Jarrad's attention was suddenly arrested as he heard another Nortanian voice say over the link,

"Commence _Transverse_ firing pattern!" He quickly manipulated the holo-interface to display the location of the last transmission. He watched fascinated as two Paladins did a strange '_dance_' around a Cardassian vessel. The Cardassian didn't even land a hit while the two vastly smaller craft took only a few minutes to reduce it to so much debris. Jarrad observed,

"The Nortanians sure don't have a _subtle_ way of doing anything, do they?" Keurh turned to him and smiled,

"I've never found cause for complaint with any of their customs." Jarrad started to protest the innocent nature of his comment when he realized that the Vedek was teasing him.

_**ROGUE SPACEDOCK GOLD LEAD**_

"Confirmed, _MAGAR 5_, you and your wingman may form up on us—try to keep up." Salvador replied to the Stinger Pilot's request. In the back of his mind, he figured that the naming structure for the Nortanian fighters was the same as those for his fleet. Just last month, he'd been the Pilot for the First Wingman for the _BLUE_ Team aboard the Frigate _GOSHAWK_, his designation being _GOSHAWK BLUE 2_. He switched over his comlink to address all ROGUE fighters and announced,

"To those Teams who are being joined by Stingers, listen up. They don't have the speed or defensive capabilities you do. Adjust your shield alignment and speed accordingly. They are also much more maneuverable so stay tight to your targets. Salvador out." From above and behind him, Tannor murmured from the turret,

"Those Stingers are leaving me pretty useless. By the time this new enhanced system had acquired, _MAGAR 6_ had already blasted the Jerichan fighter without breaking formation." As Salvador commenced his next run, he mused that the new upgrades for his team were working well. He was sure that after this he'd have no problem taking his recommendations for Fleet Standardization to Commodore Dermon. The young Hispanic watched as the upgraded phasers chewed away at the Romulan's dorsal shields until they failed. Instead of the standard _Beam_ style phasers, the new ones were a quick series of split-second _Pulses_. This not only increased the firepower, but also reduced the stress on the heat sinks. As he peeled off the strafing run, he fired a torpedo while informing Sa'don,

"Lock it on to side of forward structure." There came a hissing _buzz_ from the just discharged launcher. The old launcher had carried 5 torpedoes, the new ones carried 3 along with a dedicated Replicator to replace those fired. Two more passes destroyed the Warbird, and Salvador turned to engage the next Capital Ship when Sa'don announced,

"We have several dozen Jerichan fighter craft approaching us…they just appeared on the scanner from out of nowhere. Position is 275 mark 038."

"OK time to get down and dirty. We have to keep the fighters from _our _Cap Ships now. Have the Wayfarers and Runabouts be the last line of defense." Jesús ordered.

_**SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN**_

"Admiral, the _ARK ROYAL_ has just informed me that two latecomers are joining the party. The GALAXY-class _FEARLESS II_ and the NEBULA-class _PANTHER_ are 10 minutes out. They also indicate that General Tovagg will have reinforcements here within three hours." Keurh reported. Jarrad's brow furrowed,

"why does that General's name sound so familiar?" Without looking up from her console, Asimov answered,

"He's the Ambassadorial nephew who has been trying to curry favor with you for the last two years. Right now he's a Governor who has territory on our border but is looking for a seat on the Council." Ramoth suddenly interjected,

"I'm reading some odd telemetry coming from the _TANELORN_. I'm unable to pinpoint it. It seems to be coming off the Command Channel, but the protocol is in an unusual band of the spectrum. This is odd; I'm now getting some activity from the Romulans. They seem to be leaving, and the Cardassians are joining them." Jarrad sighed and murmured to himself,

"At least now I have some idea what the deal was with my ship!" He glanced at the holo-interface with an expectant look for a few moments before he winced, "It seems our Jerichan friends didn't get the hint…" The Admiral was interrupted by Ramoth,

"Sir I'm reading multiple transport signals from the Jerichan ships. The destination is proximal the Sh'kr Capitol City. The Jerichan fighters are heading into the atmosphere." Jarrad thundered,

"Dispatch Striker contingent! Have Star Corps craft herd Jerichan Scouts to opposite side of T'Bias! Begin recovering all starships and drop shields around Dock area!" As the damaged starships were towed into the Dry-dock, J'Cinda began a unique point blank firing pattern. She began by salting an area roughly 5000 Kilometer radius with photon torpedo explosions. They were set to detonate at random distances within that radius. She the proceeded to fire the phasers, not at specific targets but fired in sweeping arcs to establish a perimeter toward the moon. At Vitro's request, Keurh issued an _all-call_ for anyone with Medical training to report to the Spacedock's Infirmary. Jarrad watched in silent introspection as over a dozen AVENGER-class Combat Shuttles launched from various Alliance starships to head into Drakmär IV's atmosphere. Each one contained a platoon of the Star Corps finest warriors. He watched as one in particular launched from the Flagship. This shuttle had an uniqueness resulting from the artwork on its door; that of the mythical sword after which the craft was named, _STORMBRINGER_. The hardy little craft was his personal favorite, and he took Admiral's prerogative by hailing it. The familiar features of Sergeant Wallace Vine appeared before him. His voice and features were stolid, and his speech was disquietingly abrupt,

"Yes Sir, how can I help you?" Jarrad was taken aback by the Non-Commissioned Officer's demeanor and was ready to address the issue with a quick one-liner when he heard a voice in the background. The officer in charge of the platoon was detailing the orders that had just been transmitted. Jarrad suddenly got a hollow feeling in the pit of his gut. _These men were being sent to die for him, and he had the nerve to get annoyed that they weren't standing on protocol at the moment_? His mouth went dry at this brutal insight, and he found himself only able to state,

"Tell your men I said '_thank you_' and that I wish them well." Vine nodded curtly and replied to the affirmative as the channel closed.

* * *

When the Lieutenant Junior Grade had finished the briefing, Vine began his _pep talk_. None of the usual _official platitudes_ about _how well they were trained_. They already all that. It was a '_kill them all and let God sort it out_' series of one-liners interjected with machismo. Lieutenant Junior Grade Larry '_General Pat_' Tunn, gave Vine a mildly disproving look as his method was not totally consistent with policy, but the men were caught up in the moment and were getting whipped into a battle frenzy. Tunn shrugged it off and allowed the adrenaline of the moment to catch him up as well.

* * *

"How much longer can they hold on?" Salvador asked, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice. Sa'don growled in reply, 

"Not much longer sir, the last of the PRIMUS-class Wayfarers is being engaged now. There are 2 R'AHL-class left against 15 Jerichan fighters."

"20 on 10, we kill 5 to their 8—that's unbelievable!" Salvador mused.

"It was a surprise attack; I still haven't been able to track their source as of yet. To the Wayfarers credit, they really aren't designed for _air-superiority_ dogfighting. We will be in weapons range in 5 seconds." Time seemed to go in slow-motion as Salvador watched the last two Wayfarers valiantly try to endure against the superior numbers. Sa'don counting the last few seconds seemed to echo in the back of his mind.

4 seconds…

3 seconds…

2 seconds…

1 second…

Right as the announcement for confirmation of range came over his left shoulder, the Latino Pilot shouted into his headset,

"_FIRE AT WILL_!" Through some bizarre combination of blind dumb luck and Divine Intervention, the 5 ROGUES and 2 Stingers all chose separate targets. Seven Jerichan fighters fell from the sky as the remaining 8 all broke off and headed for the nearby mountains. As Salvador increased to full speed, Sa'don analyzed,

"They are headed to Capital canyon. Once they hit Primus pass, it's going to get rough. This is the humid season, and the air currents are going to toss our less massive Nortanian friends around. _Heffay_, I suggest you have the Stingers give cover from above and behind." Jesús smiled as the Drakmärian Ops officer stumbled over the word _jefe_ yet again. When the Guatemalan Pilot had first been promoted, the enthusiastic Ensign had acted as if every suggestion were a request from R'ahl. Sa'don's tendency to use the new Lieutenant Commander's full rank continually seemed a tad pompous for the _happy-go-lucky_ Latino, so as a joke he'd asked the junior officer to refer to him by his title in his native tongue. Unfortunately, the Drakmärian's guttural larynx had a difficult time with the smoothness of Hispanic speech. Salvador passed on the suggestion, and the Stingers held formation near the top of the cliffs as the battle continued to weave through the maze of canyons. The two sets of fighter craft traded shots for several minutes, but neither side did any serious damage because of the atmospheric conditions. One lucky shot by a Jerichan struck an outcropping which collapsed and struck ROGUE #3, disabling its turret. Remembering that the canyon hooked around to end in a deep trench, Salvador conceived of a plan and dictated,

"_GOLD_ flight, keep them in the trench. When they get to the turn, fire high and stay with them. The Stingers and I are going to switch strategies." Salvador pulled up and cleared the canyon, did a type of flip that aimed his fighter back into the canyon near the end of the trench. He dove deep into the trench and then spun so that he was speeding upwards to the lip of the trench at a 45° angle. From the turret he heard Lieutenant. Junior Grade Tannor murmur,

"Very innovative, sir." Coming from him, whose uncle was a Noble in the Capital City that was a high compliment. Concentrating tightly on his maneuver, Salvador listened with half an ear as Sa'don reported,

"One Jerichan tried to blow through the barrage and failed. The remaining craft all made the turn and are headed for us. By my calculations the first two will beat us to the edge. The remaining fighters are all slightly staggered to port from our perspective." Salvador smiled to himself at the young man's efficiency. He knew that due to family connections, Tannor could have any posting he wanted and Salvador knew he would transfer when he lost his taste for excitement. Tannor had told him as much when they'd first met. As they raced toward their latest encounter, Jesús came to a conclusion. Sa'don was up for promotion in the next series and a Commander's Commendation would likely clinch one for him. Once Sa'don was a Lieutenant, Salvador could then sponsor him to Command Candidate School at TIST. It was probably the tension of the moment but right as Salvador thought about the Ops officer's future a chill ran down his spine. The thought occurred to him that he hadn't complimented them lately for the good job they'd both done but decided to make a note to do it after they were back at the Spacedock. As he continued to stare at distant yet rapidly approaching entry to the trench, his concentration made his vision begin to tunnel. He blinked hard and quickly shook his head to clear the phenomenon. In that brief instant, the first Jerichan appeared. Even though he was waiting for the appearance, it still startled him. The first shots were not a matter of instinct or training, only he would know that it was a '_twitch-kill_' in reality. Subconsciously following Sa'don's observations, he drifted his craft to port as he continued to cycle the wing tip Cannons. He noted that Tannor was using the turret to create confusion by tearing its discharge back-and-forth across the lip of the trench's entrance. The second Jerichan didn't have time to react to the sudden attack and was trying to steer away when ROGUE _GOLD Lead's_ Cannons stitched across its belly. They were just beginning to clear the trench, and Salvador couldn't yet see the remaining 5. He quickly fired 3 torpedoes blindly and told Tannor to target them. The lead Jerichan came into view right as the torpedoes fired and pulled away sharply directly into Salvador's path! Fortunately, the Hispanic Pilot had started firing again right as he'd cleared the trench. The resulting explosion was so close and so intense that the entire Rogue was scorched black by it. Alarms began to blare from nearly every panel and Tannor gasped in surprise in his native tongue. One of the torpedoes had hit the trench wall and the shower of debris had caused the closest fighter to drift away right as the second torpedo had been hit by the turret between the second and third fighters. The fighters were then forced apart by the explosion. The first and second fighters collided with each other and exploded. The third fighter made the mistake of trying to form up behind the fighter that was now the lead right as the final torpedo exploded right above it slamming it into the ground. The photon explosion blinded the Jerichan Pilot whose last image was of the blackened ROGUE on a collision course! Damaged by the close explosion, Salvador's controls felt leaden. Wondering why Tannor hadn't fired, Jesús turned to see the Gunner standing on his chair reaching into the smoke-filled remains of the turret. The base of the Gunner's chair was shattered, and Salvador could easily see the braking mechanism of the hydraulic lift had blown out. He then turned to Sa'don and was planning to ask for a torpedo when the Ops officer shook his head and started to say "_sorry_" when he saw the wing of the other fighter enter his vision outside the window. There was a sickening crunch, and Salvador was whipped around hard as everything went dark. For what seemed like an endless moment, Salvador's world seemed as though he were suspended in an all-consuming cacophonous roar. His senses began to overload in a vertiginous storm. In all the seeming near madness he was experiencing, he noted a spot of light at the periphery of his awareness. This both excited and terrified him about what it could possibly mean. His mind spinning from the overload, he had one completely aware thought that came through.

**_Oh God…_**

He'd heard that people somehow made peace with their maker in their last moments, and he'd always done his best to live by the Religious tenets of his culture, but it somehow seemed inadequate now. He also somehow felt more concern for his team than himself at the moment for some odd reason. A thousand other thoughts came flooding to him, and he found himself wondering if this is what it meant to have one's life flash before one's eyes. As abruptly as it all began, it ended. With a shock that had a nearly physical impact. He opened his eyes to hazy grayness and total quiet. It seemed almost peaceful in a way. If it hadn't been for the headache, he'd have thought he was in heaven. His ironic sense of humor picked up on the fact that _headache and heaven both started with 'hea…' so perhaps he was_? He heard a rhythmic sound that he took for footsteps from behind him and tried to turn around thinking that it might be a Messenger come to deliver him to his Final Reward. He found himself unable to turn due to the violence around him seeming to hold him fast in his seat. The rhythmic sound continued and was followed by the sound of a voice, but he couldn't comprehend what was spoken. Before he could even think to ask for clarification, the sensory overload came to an abrupt halt as did his consciousness!

* * *

"Gentlemen the Royal Rangers have the capitol city well held…" Tunn began and was interrupted by a round of cheers from the soldiers he was addressing. There might have been the ageless inter-service rivalry, but put a weapon in their hands and they are all family. '_General Pat_' smiled at his Platoon and stuck a hand out index finger extended down and twirled the finger as if to say '_mix it up_!'. This brought on another roar of approval, and the soldiers all reacted by stabbing the air with their index fingers pointed at him. Tunn glanced over at Vine who was doing the same and realized that they were emulating the Sergeant. These were, after all, Vine's men. Tunn merely served as a flag head to represent the interests of the Company's Commander Major Easton, who's orders he was reading as he continued, "We're being diverted to provide backup for Major Easton's 2 platoons near the LINC at Rediig. It will be dawn there soon so we've been ordered to leave our Optical Interfaces on…" There was a quiet chorus of groans and a murmur of disapproval swept through the unreceptive audience to the unwelcome Command. The helmet display was invaluable when doing Recon or Sentry work, but in combat the Interface sometimes caused confusion. Tunn frowned and continued, "_Excuse me_! If you don't like the orders, get promoted to officer and _change them_! Until then, _give your flak to the enemy and not to me_! _Understood_!" Although it was clear the question was rhetorical, they all responded with sound '_AYE, AYE SIR_!'. He concluded by saying, 

"Now let me go see how long we have until we're at the LZ." The Lieutenant turned and stepped toward the door to the Cockpit. He stepped through, and the door was just beginning to close when an impact to the Shuttle threw him back through to land in the laps of the first row of Strikers. Vine instantly went into action. He threw himself through the now-jammed door. The blast had hit just behind the Ops station and had blown both him and the Pilot from their positions, killing them. He dragged himself into the Pilot's seat right as the Shuttle began to lose attitude control because of the damage, fighting the near Mach wind shear pouring through missing section of Cockpit window that was trying to push him back through the door. Vine managed to regain control a mere few meters above the treetops. The Shuttle's internal systems were gone so Sergeant Vine requested over his comlink to the unit Medic,

"_Kal_, what's the status on the L-T?"

"He's shaken and dazed but otherwise fine. All the men on the back row are unconscious. Do I even need to enquire about the Cockpit crew?"

"Negative, kal." '_Kal_' was short for _kalishe_, the Drakmärian word for Doctor. The distinctive voice of Lieutenant Tunn came over the link sounding somewhat confused yet steady,

"What's the status, _Wall_?"

"We're losing power fast. Because of all the weight I'm fighting to control her. The Position Location Sensor is damaged so I'm not sure of our location but it looks like we're about 5 kilometers from the LINC. As a suggestion sir, I'd recommend bailing stat and I'll try to land." Tunn concurred and 4 dozen warriors leapt into the treetops a scant meter below. Vine's controls were getting worse by the moment and the removal of the Platoon's weight seemed to only make it worse. The _STORMBRINGER_ was almost dead stick. He cut power right as he came even with the edge of the roof of the _Linking Intraplanet Node Complex_ and the craft dropped like a dead weight. The Shuttle spun as it skidded across the roof but had too much inertia left and kept going past the end. As the Shuttle tipped over the edge to come to a rest at an angle nose up, Vine noticed that there was at least two squads of Jerichans advancing on the LINC from the far side of the tree line. He went back to the aft compartment and found his equipment right where he'd left it. He collected it all and crept toward the still open loading door. Using his helmet optics, he noted 3 Jerichans approaching while the rest maintained their positions. He waited until they were only a couple meters from the entrance before making his move. The lead Jerichan unhooked something from his pack straps and was in the middle of making a throwing motion when he caught the first of three rapidly-fired shots from Vine's phaser rifle. Vine didn't even bother aiming the remaining shots as he knew where he wanted the shots to go and years of training and action served him well. All 3 shots hit their mark within a second of Vine leaving the crashed Shuttle. At a dead run, Vine snapped a MIG onto the end of his weapon and fired the _Multiple Impact Grenade_ at the general location of the densest population of enemy soldiers. He continued his trek for the local tree line rapidly firing his rifle as he went. Given the intense amount of return fire, the built-in stealth and energy-deflection features of his body armor saved his life several times over in the few seconds it took him to get to cover according to his helmet's display. Hitting the tree line, he grabbed a '_scatter-bug_' and dropped it as he continued running. The device was a small canister containing 8 _multi-legged_ units that broadcast a unique array of spectral signals as they _skittered_ randomly away causing distraction to any pursuer's scanner. When the device hit the ground, it split releasing the units and Vine changed his course as he spotted his next destination, a rock wall almost 15 meters high. He slung his rifle and removed from a pocket his _Foxhole Anti Artillery Protection_ device. The FAAP was a 4 inch square that emitted a repulsor beam which was set on the edge of a foxhole in an attempt to divert incoming fire from one's position. Working quickly as he continued his run, he snapped off the cover and reversed the emitter's polarity and bypassed the interrupter circuit that caused it to pulse. Vine hooked the unit to the front of his belt, turned it on, and used it to hold him to the cliff face as he _freeclimbed_. Moments later, he cleared the top to notice a Sentry scanning an area on the opposite side of the LINC. Once the Sentry noticed him, it was too late. The Jerichan tried to bring his weapon to bear which became his one and only mistake. The Striker didn't allow him another. Vine slapped the weapon in the direction it was already being swung, reversed the slap and tilted his hand to chop at the man's throat. He followed up by hooking his leading leg around the Sentry's and smashed his other fist into the man's gut, tripping him backwards over his leg as he began to fold over from the punch. Vine continued to spin with the energy of his attack and dumped the man perilously close to the cliff's edge. The Sentry began to roll away and tried to bring his weapon to bear again, and Vine watched through his helmet optic as the next moment unfolded. The Sentry got a look of vile satisfaction as he brought the gun to bear by the movement of his roll. As he placed his finger on the trigger, the look changed to one of sheer terror when he realized he'd rolled to the edge of the cliff and was still going. Slipping out his tricorder, Vine mused in morbid _gallows_ humor,

"I wonder how you say '_timber_!' in Jerichan?" He made a few adjustments on the tricorder and returned it to its holster. It would now act to enhance the optical device built into the brow of his helmet. Knowing where his own unit should be, he quickly located them making steady progress just under 3 kilometers from Easton's Command. Vine himself was just under 1/2 kilometer from where Easton had established his Base of Operations. He was using the courtyard on the east side of the LINC to establish his Perimeter. Vine moved along the cliff's edge about 45 meters until he was at an area that had a clearer field of view. It wasn't far from the area he'd fired the MIG, and despite the predawn dimness he could make out several of the grenades' impact craters almost 100 meters away on the next side from the corner of the clearing he was on. He'd thought he'd seen some movement, and now he was sure of it. There was a patrol of 2 squads walking along the north side of the LINC. Much to Vine's surprise, instead of establishing a presence there, they continued walking toward the area Vine had fired the MIG! Breaking comm silence, Vine hailed the Company using his unit's nickname. Upon hearing it was the Platoon Sergeant for the notorious '_Angry Angels_' the Major himself replied,

"Thank you for crashing the Shuttle. You seem to have not only exposed the enemy's position but scared them off as well." Incredulous, Vine fought to keep his voice even as he replied,

"Sir _recall_ those men! They are walking into an _ambush_!" Easton's voice was condescending when he sighed in aggravation,

"_As you were **Sergeant**_! Intelligence indicates that only a minimum force is needed to rout the opposition. Need I remind you that the wanton destruction of Alliance resources is a Court-Martial offense and the _STORMBRINGER_ was a very valuable resource." Vine heard 2 sharp metallic clicks of the comlink just before the connection closed and knew the Major had punctuated his statement by '_ring knocking_' the mike. Vine began to scan the forest through his viewer to find the Troops waiting to pounce on the approaching men. He spotted them mere seconds before the Strikers were to enter the forest. He began to take aim with his rifle and heard an explosion. His scanner showed something had detonated behind the Strikers, and suddenly the scanner's display began to '_dance_.' Vine was switching off the distorted display to aim '_old-school_' when the energy wave from the explosion knocked him flat from his crouched position. He recovered quickly and noted that his Optical System was _blank_. Checking his rifle, he noted that it too was dead. Opening the Access Panel, he noticed that the indicator for the Power Cell showed that it was in _backwards_. Flipping the Power Cell around, he figured that it must be a troop version of the Inverter weapon. The rifle's scope came back on immediately, but the weapon needed to reprime the plasma initiators which would take precious seconds. Watching through the scope, Vine stood by helpless as the Strikers were caught out in the open by surprise. Vine grabbed another MIG and did something that was completely against policy as it was very dangerous to do. He set the rifle on _training mode_ so that it was just a laser aiming device, and removed the clamp that not only held the grenades together but contained the proximity sensor that released them. He concluded by giving the MIG a spin and then started firing. This way he could fire each one independently with decisive results. Unfortunately, it was not in time enough to save any of the Strikers. With grim determination, he switched back from _training mode_ and went about reversing all the Power Cells for the rest of his equipment. It was much easier to hold the MIG in place after twisting the clamp to the point where it didn't make contact, but that also had a good chance of taking the proximity sensor out of alignment which could detonate the unfired grenades. When he finished, Vine noted that '_General Pat_' Tunn and crew had now made it to within a Kilometer of the LINC, fighting for every centimeter. He knew Easton could see and hear the sounds of battle, but the entire Company was standing pat. Vine knew that at this range he couldn't do anything to help them. He then noted that a section of the Jerichan company that was near Southwest side of the LINC was separating to join the battle behind them. For someone like Sergeant Wallace '_the Wall_' Vine, who had attended the Hathcock Scout-Sniper School, the 500 meters presented very little challenge. After he reset the beam to a frequency above visual perception range, seven members of the Jerichan team succumbed to his rifle before they fully realized what was happening and dove for cover. He was preparing to follow-up by peppering the area with further shots, when his sensors alerted him to multiple transporter events. Due to the recent reset the sensors hadn't fully recalibrated, and he lay still since he couldn't tell the source or proximity of the events and he was, in his opinion, quite exposed for someone of his training. He was easing himself into the nearby underbrush when his alert went off again, this time it indicated it was so close that he prayed the predawn dimness would work in his favor even though the Eastern sky was beginning to grey!

* * *

Moments after the sparkling spill of sound and light ended, a team of 10 individuals began their trek to the battle area through the forest not far from Vine's position, with weapons drawn. Their leader was a strong, sturdy man who had been given explicit instructions by his superiors to bring the invasion to a conclusion with haste no matter the cost. He had been promised this planet by those in authority even before this excursion had begun, and he'd declared that his weapon would taste the blood of any who stood in his way. His enemy considered themselves a dedicated species. He promised himself that he'd show them the true meaning of dedication as he did his personal best to erase the stain of their memory from history. By the end of the day, all those involved would know whose species was truly supreme and that was the species through which came the true power! His aide was monitoring local activity on his scanner, and asked why neither force had moved in their proximity to the Computer Networking Station. The leader replied he was unsure since those troops were not under his direct command. The indigenous forces could easily move out against the invaders as the indigenous forces had greater numbers and their position wasn't quite as secure as it was so exposed. The invader's position was well established and a quick, intense strike could be decisive once the small force behind them was no longer a concern. The leader stated that they were going to join up with their forces and finally secure this planet for his people once and for all! There were murmurs of approval all around as they approached the cliff's edge. They all paused as the aide began toying with his scanner with a puzzled expression on his face. He made a comment about a sensor discrepancy and aimed the unit off to one side toward the underbrush!

* * *

Vine lay motionless on the ground less than a meter from the leader of the group that had just come up behind him. He mused that the situation was getting more interesting by the minute. They had detected something but weren't sure what it was and because of his body armor's stealth properties they would have to get closer to find him. Since he'd also turned on his Ghillie mesh before he'd started his sniping by force of habit, the optical chameleon nature would prevent them from seeing him. He had a good idea of what would happen next and mentally prepared himself for it. This was not going to be his idea of fun, and it was going to ruin somebody's day. He almost smiled inwardly as he heard an unusual sound coming from the member of the group next to the leader.

* * *

The group's leader looked at his aide with a curious and expectant expression as the aide closed his scanner and began sniffing the air in the direction he'd been pointing the unit. The aide stopped the sniffing, sighed, and mumbled something under his breath. The leader's expression turned to one of puzzlement as he turned to look in the direction in question. As he played his light over the area, the leader blinked several times as his eyes seemed to be playing tricks on him as if they were having trouble focusing on the area. The aide sighed again and repeated himself a little louder, 

"_Wall_."

"_What_?" Came the response and the leader nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun back around, and his eyes nearly bugged out as the Sergeant seemed to detach himself from the surrounding scenery and stood up, still facing away from the group. The leader asked,

"You are out in the open and facing away from us, isn't that a little dangerous?"

"The Jerichan annular confinement beam has a higher energy diffraction rate to protect against energy weapon attacks and as such has a higher pitch. Besides, there are only 10 of you."

"Well, I know of at least one of us that could give you more than a little trouble Sergeant Vine."

"I'm sure you could Commander Larrgn-Z…or at least try to." There was a round of light laughter that even Larr took part in before he asked,

"What's the _sit-rep_ Sergeant?"

"Major Easton's Company is bivouacked in the courtyard of the LINC. The '_Angry Angels_' are trying to reach them but are blocked by at least 2 Jerichan Platoons. My recommendation is to form up with my Platoon rather than the Company since, knowing Major Easton, he won't make a move on the Jerichans unless he receives direct orders initiated by Battalion." The last piece of information drew a skeptical look from the Drakmärian. In response, Vine drew a small, rectangular item out of a pocket on his Equipment Harness. He opened it by unfolding it lengthwise so that it was now 15 cm long and tapped a code into the keypad just below the hinge. He then handed it over while saying,

"Be my guest, Commander." A few moments later, a somewhat agitated Larr confirmed Vine's report. Larr had a few choice words to say under his breath as he returned the unit. The Commander then proceeded to walk along the edge of the cliff looking down. Vine looked over at him and said,

"Sir, if you are looking for a way to get down come over here." Larr walked back over and was preparing to say something when Vine mumbled something into his headset and the whole team found themselves transported to the area where the ambushed Strikers lay. Before anyone could ask, Vine said,

"The transporter on the _STORMBRINGER_." Xardonin Tarr-Celorn was the first to say anything as they all noticed the unusual landing job,

"The Admiral is not going to be happy about that!" Vine replied matter-of-factly,

"It's just a thing, don't mean nothing. Now would you please hand me your communicators?" Even before they could ask why, Vine held up an intervening hand and explained. "The sun is rising in the East and guess what direction we have to go to get to the enemy? Besides, as low as the sun is, those nice shiny _reflective _badges that are conveniently located _over your vital organs_ will more than make for a perfect target. I also need the ID algorithm built into the badges so you can operate the Body Armor. The armor has special defensive properties that will give us all the edge we will need against these numbers." Xark plucked up a Chest Piece that had just been removed from a fallen Striker and quipped,

"In other words, _Outnumbered yes, Outgunned maybe, Outclassed never_!" They all spent the next few moments '_suiting up_' in silence. Larr broke the silence by asking,

"What is the status of their weapons? Can any of them be used to give us an advantage?" Vine answered as Xark picked up an unusual, bulky rifle,

"None that you'd be familiar enough with in the heat of battle. I'd recommend just sticking with your own phasers since theirs have some damage from the explosion, and I wouldn't risk it. That weapon in Commander Tarr-Celorn's hands is an Automatic Flechette Launcher." The Lunärian commented,

"Looks and feels like a Lunärian '_spec-ops_' Field Defoliator." Vine grinned and said that it was _based_ on the same design and principle. When Xark nodded approval and slung it over his shoulder Vine cautioned,

"To lighten it we had to use caseless ammo so don't '_ram and slam_' it or it will jam explosively." The term was in reference to those who knew the weapon was automatic and would _ram_ their finger into the firing slot and _slam _the trigger down…and leave it there until the weapon was empty; which was a standard habit for anyone who had ever trained with Nortanian weapons. The group then proceeded to walk over to the corner of the LINC nearest the Jerichan encampment. With the dawn threatening to break over the horizon, they had only a few minutes to get across the 200 meter clearing before it became too dangerous to do so as they would become easy targets in the process. While the others had gotten prepped, Vine had taken a Collapsible Utility Bag off a dead comrade and filled it with as many MIGs as he could fit in. He now handed them out and said,

"Commander, as soon as you give the word, I'm going to provide for a distraction and then I'll cover you while you get across. I've also set the Target Enhancer so that _our team's body armor glows red_." Larr was planning to say something when Vincent tapped him on the shoulder and said,

"You were wanting to add another weapon to use along with your phaser? Take mine, it will just get in my way." Larr noticed that the feline had his Energy Blade out but not yet ignited and had already extended the claws on the other hand as he accepted the extra phaser. Larr glanced over at Vine and the line of men holding the 10 MIGs and announced sharply,

"_You're on Sergeant_!" Vine leaned around the corner, fired off the first MIG, leaned back and requested,

"**_LOAD ME!_**" He continued this rapid-fire sequence with fluid repetition until the grenades were all gone. He glanced at Larr and nodded. The Prince was impressed; the first one was just detonating as the last was being launched. Drakmär IV's favorite son began a dead run as he barked,

"**_MOVE OUT!_**" Larr watched the grenades wreak their particular brand of havoc as he made his way across the clearing, a phaser in each hand. He saw some movement in the trees ahead of him on the Optical and was aiming when a phaser blast sizzled past him from behind, centimeters from his waist! He saw a figure fall, and the others near the figure scattered and dove for cover. Once he got within 10 meters of the trees, Larr began issuing orders,

"Xark, have three men join you and go give '_General Pat_' some relief. Samson, follow me into the Jerichan encampment and Vine break off support and clean up after Samson. The rest of you wind your way around to the far side of the encampment and cut off their escape route." Larr didn't even wait for confirmation as he broke the connection. He didn't break stride as he spotted nearly a dozen Jerichan soldiers pop up, weapons at the ready. Larr charged the one in front of him as he fired at two that were a couple meters to either side. The two he'd shot at went down right as Larr jumped off one leg and kicked up with the other, catching the man in the hollow of the neck and carrying him over. Larr spun on his hip as he landed and used the energy of his spin to swing an arm out wide which caused the butt of one of his phasers to connect with the nose of a suddenly appearing Jerichan. Continuing his motion, he charged off at right angles while heading toward the center of the encampment firing his phasers as he progressed. Meanwhile, Samson ignited his sword and was making short order of all those encountered. Those who were smart enough not to come close enough to taste his sword wound up cut down instead by Vine's rifle. A short distance away, Xark was wading through a group of Jerichan soldiers that had been taken almost totally by surprise. The Jerichans had been planning to regroup as Tunn's group had gotten themselves pretty well entrenched. The '_Angry Angels_' had been making good headway until the amount and severity of the injuries became more than Kalishe Barco could handle on the run. Having been promoted to Lieutenant himself about a month ago, Barco recommended to Lieutenant Tunn that they stop their advance so he could stabilize the more serious cases. Once they were dug in, they could also have the Jerichans come to them. This theory seemed to work quite well. What injuries they did sustain now were minor and Barco was able to stabilize four men who were near death. Seven more who had broken appendages or injured muscles were able to rejoin the fray. Barco heard steps approaching him and looked up to see '_General Pat_' Tunn who had a look on his face as if planning to say something. Tunn stopped in mid-step and everything seemed to go near silent for a moment. Tunn suddenly got a look of near-panicked awareness and groaned,

"_Uh, ohhh…!_" He then spun around and charged back to the line of defense they'd made and announced into his headset that the Jerichans were coming. He flopped to the ground at his position in the center of the line at the crest of the hillock they were defending. For the fifth time this hour, the Jerichans came rushing through the trees up the gentle slope. This time was different. It seemed that all the attackers were concentrating on one section to break through the perimeter. His section. He was preparing to give the order to fire when something really unusual happened. An almost surreal booming staccato snarl came from the far end of the Jerichan ranks, and the surge of bodies became a mad disarray. He figured it was some indigenous wild animal that had decided to attack. The timing was excellent since Tunn was firing as fast as he could, and the line coming toward him was still advancing mercilessly. The last target was now at the last tree from the crest, about 5 meters away, and Tunn took aim. Unfortunately, the Jerichan fired an instant sooner and managed to damage Tunn's rifle. Upon seeing Tunn reach for his phaser, the Jerichan charged to get a better shot as Tunn opted to go for his knife instead. As Tunn went into a crouch, he swung his damaged rifle at his opponent, throwing off his aim and giving Tunn an opening. The Lieutenant dove at the attacker and the two began to grapple. The Jerichan was on top and was using gravity to his advantage to bring his disruptor to bear on Tunn's head! Tunn reversed his grip on his knife and slashed it at the Jerichan's forearm. The Jerichan howled in pain as he released his grip and Tunn smashed the blade across his body hard to bury it in the throat of the Jerichan. The Jerichan's eyes bugged, and a spasm went through his body. This was just enough to trigger the disruptor, narrowly missing the good Lieutenant's head! Tunn threw the body off and crawled back over to the edge of the hill while drawing his phaser. He looked around and saw that again his men had beaten back the superior force. If it hadn't been for that wild animal…The '_wild animal_' was Xark who was using the Flechette cannon to all its lethal effectiveness. He'd found that if he squeezed the trigger lightly and quickly enough, he would only fire 1-3 groups at a time. He'd also discovered that if he approached his target at an angle, the naturally expanding load could strike more than one target at a time.

_**GRAND PALADIN MAGAR HOUND**_

Something was very wrong. Moments ago, one of the 3 remaining Paladins had abruptly broken off contact as it was skimming through cloud cover while heading to perform air support. The next closest Paladin was diverted to investigate and moments after indicating it had found material that matched the composition of the missing craft's hull descending through the atmosphere, scanners showed a massive energy burst in the vicinity. Contact was lost with that one as well. The order was given for the starship to enter the atmosphere. The _MAGAR Hound_ was just coming over the horizon when it got a good look at the problem; clearly outlined on sensors against the cloud it was hiding inside, the breaking dawn revealed a cloaked Jerichan Fathership! The C.O. reached over to his comm console and announced,

"Attention Jerichan vessel! This is Laird Gregory Condvik of the Nortanian militia Grand Paladin _MAGAR Hound_ GP-28. You are ordered to drop your cloak and prepare to be boarded, you have 5 seconds to comply and there will be no further warnings." After counting 5 seconds aloud and receiving no response, Condvik ordered,

"Militant Permesentz, fire Starburst salvo!" The junior officer acknowledged the order and fired the torpedoes. Not wanting to take the chance that the Jerichans were employing a phase-cloak, the Tactical officer detonated the Starbursts within 5 meters of the Fathership. The cloak '_flowed_' away in a sequence that could only be described as looking like the craft poured itself into solidity. The Jerichan craft began to rise using it maneuvering thrusters and fired its heavy disruptors. One of the hits struck one of the _MAGAR Hound_'s wings right where it met the fuselage. The Operations officer, a Senior Lieutenant. who shared Condvik's last name but was no relation, was thrown clear of his station. The Laird called for a Medic as he ordered an '_at will_' firing pattern. The Militant found one Blaster Bar with sufficient firepower and managed to fire several shots before another discharge from the Jerichan's disruptor hit home and Main Power went out. The _MAGAR Hound_ was now falling, _dead stick_, at full thruster speed into Drakmär IV's atmosphere!

* * *

Not far from the Capitol City of Sh'kr the first hint of dawn was just beginning to glow. With only the faintest sliver of grey threatening to impose on the Eastern sky the energy exchange 5 Kilometers above was unmistakable. Primus Dr'kn-Z grinned in smug satisfaction as he watched dozens of discharges from various locations streak up to meet the departing craft. The energy beams of different types danced over the ventral surface of the ascending craft, although few of them had enough firepower to do damage at that range. 

_**CYGNUS**_

"Dude, like how do you say '_here I come to save the day_!' in Nortanian?" A refreshed Dermon requested of Hersh, who, along with Petmuus was preparing the tractor beam for an unusual task. The _CYGNUS_ was racing to the area above the endangered _MAGAR Hound_ while the _SPACEDOCK_ beamed off all its occupants as a precaution. Ses and Dermon came up with a theory that they could pull the Grand Paladin out of the atmosphere if they fine-tuned the tractor beam to as narrow a beacon as possible and then only pulled on a section at a time for a couple seconds at a time. If that failed and it went below an altitude of 5 kilometers, the Juggernaut _GALACTICA_ was to disperse it using its Megaphaser cannons once it arrived in 3 minutes. Ses said something in Nortanian as the two Nortanians glanced at each other in confusion and all except Dermon began laughing hysterically. Dermon shot Hersh a withering look and Antoné translated,

"_Ah I get it Commodore humor_…**_laugh or you go on report_**!" Dermon tried a mock pout but couldn't help grinning at his own expense. From the Helm Hardison called out,

"We're in position. Ready for tractor operation." Since Petmuus was the most familiar with the station's controls, he operated the beam while Ses and Hersh monitored and Ses made adjustments at the Engineering station. Hersh was at the Ops station and was just starting to grin about the fact that they had less than 1 Kilometer to go before they could switch back to standard tractor beam operations when he noticed something,

"I'm getting a strange energy reading from the Jerichan ship. It looks like some sort of energy surge." A concerned Dermon strode over to the Ops panel and asked,

"Is it their weapons? I thought we'd determined that offensive weaponry looked as if it had been transferred to their thrusters." Hersh shook his head,

"It looks like the ground fire might have damaged something. The energy surge seems focused on one section of the ventral area and seems to be bleeding off from various other areas. Their rate of ascent seems to be slowing…" Hersh's voice trailed off as he noticed another reading appear on his panel which seemed to contradict the first. He tapped a couple keys and felt a chill run through his entire body as he shouted,

"_Disconnect the tractor beam_! _Brace for impact_!" There wasn't time to disconnect the beam completely and Dermon watched in horror as the Jerichan went to impulse to try to save itself. The outside edge of the Fathership's docking bay collided with one of the Grand Paladin's wings and both exploded. Petmuus was still trying to valiantly shut down the tractor beam when Ses bolted from his chair to tackle the Nortanian the instant before the Tactical station overloaded. Hersh and Hardison swung around in their chairs to see the explosion and then glanced at each other. They shared a look of empathy that only one who had a Nortanian constitution could comprehend. Without a word they both dove for the floor as their stations overloaded. All lights went down with a winding metallic whine whose tone went deeper as it continued for several seconds. No emergency lights came on; the only illumination came from the series of dimly flickering workstations along the back wall. The two Nortanians with their feline-like eyes were able to adapt to the dimness easiest and headed toward the workstations.

"Don't go back there." Dermon requested. They all stopped short and were starting to protest when Dermon continued. His voice was steady but Hersh could hear a hint of resignation in his next words,

"The _CYGNUS_ is gone, she's breaking up. The explosion caused a cascade overload of the EPS system and that is tearing apart the SIF. That in turn will tear the ship apart as the sabotage has left her physical integrity lacking. _Tetris_, contact the other Nortanians via your Datalink and tell them we're abandoning ship. Hardison, do the same to inform the _GALACTICA_ to add the _CYGNUS_ to its targets. Now we need to get to the Escape Pod." Ses piped up in admiration,

"_Wow_! It takes years to get that acclimated to a station to do a diagnostic by audio reference only. By the way, as _Petmuus_ is informing the other Nortanians, we can use the _site-to-site transporter_ in the Datalink as an ideal escape method."

"_Petmuus_! Oh; my apologies Lieutenant!" The Nortanian Junior Lieutenant frowned as he replied while glancing uncomfortably at the floor,

"That's fine, it's all _fun and games_ Commodore." Ses and Hersh smiled as they caught the reference to the ancient _game_ of _Tetris_. Petmuus then mumbled under his breath that the _last_ time he'd had Bridge duty, he'd been called a _lot worse_ by his CO. Dermon chuckled ruefully and saluted his old chair as the Nortanians prepped their Datalinks for the transport. As a look of deep regret embedded itself into Zach's countenance, Hersh came to attention and commanded,

"_A-tench-hut_! _Pre-sent Harms_!" Zach made a mental note as he watched the Nortanians salute. It was a variation of the Klingon salute. The hand slapped the chest with an open hand and then swung out using the elbow as an axis to the point where the hand was palm forward at ear level, the elbow never having moved. In a choked whisper from fighting the tears, he said,

"Order arms. Energize." As the beams took hold, he finished by saying, "Farewell dear friend, watch over my Dad, Stepmother, Stepfather, and Elle."

* * *

"Advance and be recognized! I've beaten back 6 advances so far this hour and one more will just get me that much more warmed up!" Dawn had broken only 10 minutes ago and with it the heart of the Jerichan invasion. The area secured, Jarrad had beamed down to see to the _sit-rep_ on the vital Computer Relay Station personally. After quickly taking care of business with the Striker Company, Jarrad wanted to meet the famous '_Angry Angels_.' As they had approached the foot of the small hill which was the unit's last position, they had been challenged by a phaser blast less than a meter in front of Larr, who was leading Jarrad's entourage. Before anyone could say anything, Vine had bellowed out a hail to the encampment to inform '_General Pat_' that the '_Wall_' was coming in. Larr grinned and made a mock bow as he gestured for the Sergeant to lead the way. Halfway up the small hill, Jarrad saw a young officer make a weary effort of standing up. The dirty, disheveled man took a long tired look at Jarrad through eyes that had seen one death too many for a lifetime in one day. The young officer shoved his phaser into its holster with all the decorum that one would muster for a belch in one's personal quarters. The young officer squared his shoulders and ordered, 

"_Attention_! Admiral in the camp!" Nearly two-dozen Strikers popped up out of concealment, most of whose positions Jarrad hadn't even noticed until they'd stood up. The Admiral noticed that at least half a dozen needed the active support of a comrade to stand. These men were bloody and broken but had not been beaten.

"As you were. You can have your men stand down, Lieutenant…?" Jarrad began.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Lawrence Tunn, Sir." Tunn replied matter-of-factly. Jarrad got a puzzled look on his face as though he were trying to figure something out and his eyes flew open wide with understanding and he chuckled,

"OK now I get it. The nickname '_General Pat_' is because of your last name Tunn. _General Patton_. Very nice, for a second there I thought you were having delusions of grandeur and were after my job."

"Yes sir that's the reason. Not really Admiral, I have enough to do keeping these gents in line." Tunn replied forcing a small tired smile.

"You've done a fine job here considering the circumstances. Let me ask you this, do you think you can handle a few more men?" Jarrad asked.

"All honesty sir I'm going to need at least a few more considering the losses we just took. I'll take whoever I get assigned that's the way it works in this Command." Tunn sighed. Jarrad began to toy with something in his hand and glanced over at Larr, who nodded his assent.

"At the _Platoon_ level that may be true but it can be changed. You can have the pick from whomever you want to request. All my _Company_ Commanders do. Now report to the Spacedock and join up with the rest of your Company." Jarrad reached out and pressed the item in his hand to Tunn's uniform as he concluded, "Congratulations _Major_!" Dartanion then turned and began walking back to the LINC. Before turning to follow, Larr looked at the puzzled look on the new Field Grade officer's face and paused as the exhausted man asked,

"But if I start establishing company policy, how will Easton think about that?" Larr replied coyly realizing the promotion had yet to sink in for the Striker,

"Not much Major. Jarrad was furious at Easton's refusal to take the initiative and engage the enemy given the circumstances. He was demoted to Second Lieutenant for the loss of life that his decision cost and transferred to Administration. I will inform the Battalion Commander about the situation here and ensure he understands that Jarrad wants you to adapt the Company to the '_Angry Angels_' style." The impact of the Prince's statement was beginning to dawn on Tunn's mind, and the young human shook the Drakmärian's hand and looked over to where Jarrad was talking to Vine.

"I realize that your input had a decisive role in turning the tide of battle here?" Jarrad asked the burly Sergeant.

"Yes Admiral but I just did my job as I was trained to do. There's no need to hand out another battlefield promotion. Besides that, once you find out it was I who wrecked your prized shuttle, you'll probably feel a little different." Was Vine's reply

"As Xark told me, it's just a thing; Pr'gn will have it fixed in a day knowing him. As far as the promotion goes, your reputation precedes you and I wouldn't want to tarnish your image. I'm going to issue an honorary/acting Warrant for you so that you can Command the Platoon as a Warrant Officer." Vine nodded as Larr came up to him and, having heard the last part of the conversation, congratulated him. Vine walked toward Tunn's last position and saw him heading to the tent at the center of the plateau. He caught up with him moments after he entered where they were keeping the wounded. Barco was sure to be thrilled as the two Lieutenants had become fast friends after the Italian Medic had been assigned _field training_ to round out his qualifications a couple months ago. As he was entering the tent, he mused that it was lucky it was still standing. It appeared that a stray disruptor shot had pierced the tent wall about waist height less than a centimeter from on of the corner support poles. Upon entering, what he saw made him call for an immediate Medevac!

* * *

"It's about time he got back here. Why Barco would want to spend time playing soldier when there are bodies to fix is beyond me. I have to go have a chat with that boy to find out what kept him. Wilhelm, you're in charge!" The European Medical Resident nodded an acknowledgment as his mentor whisked his way out of the room. He had 5 Drakmärians in serious condition and there were dozens more waiting just outside. The Nurse who had just informed Vitro that more Medical staff had arrived and that his protégé was among the new arrivals but wouldn't be reporting to him as ordered. Vitro made a beeline to the main section, figuring that the young Doctor was probably doing a re-triage on everybody he encountered. While passing the bay windows at the entrance to Sickbay, he spotted Dermon and Hersh along with a group of Nortanians. He walked up to them and commented, 

"Glad to see you guys made it back. Zach, I want you to get checked out and get a _Rapticilin_ booster shot." Dermon nodded acknowledgment and Vitro started to continue on his way when he noticed the spots on Ses' face,

"Excuse me Mr. Trill but have you ever had a host who was a Doctor?"

"Once or twice about a century or so ago." To Vitro, that was an utterly bizarre statement but he realized that it was culturally appropriate. The Surgeon General replied,

"Great! You're hired then. Take this in case anyone asks any questions and get to work." He peeled off his Lab Coat and tossed it at the young man as he turned and walked away. He barreled around a corner and entered where a Nurse had indicated the room Barco was in, and stopped short. The only Doctor he could see was Lieutenant Petraszi of the _McAULIFFE_. From the expression on the Caitian's face, he could tell she was none too happy to be performing this type of '_meatball_' surgery. Between discarding a sponge and requesting a retractor, she asked him whether he needed anything. He replied that he was looking for Lieutenant Barco. With the flick of a claw, the feline gestured with the instrument at the last bed. He spotted several soldiers standing around the bed, and his heart sank, fully realizing the worst had happened. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he walked past the 3 beds before the last one. Vitro was only peripherally aware of Doctor Petraszi requesting her Nurse to seal the current patient's wound closed, replace her gloves, and progress to her next patient. When the Caitian requested _type VQ_ blood with a _Neutral Compositing Agent_, he mentally fixated for a moment that her next patient was obviously a male Lunärian of the Fremm tribe whom, like most '_Fremm-_' tribe _males_ had _Suloff-Lodde Syndrome_. The Syndrome caused their blood to clot almost immediately, when mixed with adrenaline, upon contact with oxygen. This was good for fighting but bad for surgery. As he approached the group of Strikers, he wondered why she wasn't attending to Barco and if he should see to his care. He must have verbalized his thoughts as she purred in reply that there is not much that she could do, but he was welcome to pursue _Admiral's prerogative_ and overrule her if he so chose. He merely shook his head and asked the Strikers if he could get through to talk with Barco. The group's commander glanced up at him and called them all to _attention_.

"At ease, people." The aging Surgeon replied as the leaned over the head of the bed to ask Barco how he was doing. The young Italian Doctor's eyes were closed, and his vitals were barely registering in the areas they were registering at all. He was clinically dead already. _First, my son J.J. goes missing and now this_. It was probably the exhaustion, as all senior officers had not had a moment's rest in the past day and a half, but he blamed himself for this situation. He'd recognized the potential in Dominick Barco during the Spacedock's invasion incident a couple months ago and had promoted him to officer status knowing that he'd make a great member of the Medical staff. The only problem had arisen when Nurse Barco had completed the 6 week accelerated Doctor's Certification had met Doctor Wilhelm, who was interning on the Spacedock. He had heard the story of how Wilhelm had impressed Vitro by being the only one with Medical training for a Starship that had crashed on a lifeless Planetoid for several years. The young Italian had decided to reward Vitro's faith in him by proving he could handle Medical situations in a high-stress environment by requesting Temporary Assignment Rotation to a Striker unit. The Surgeon General had admired his fellow countryman's initiative and had authorized the change in Designator, knowing that this type of training would also work to develop Barco's character. Now that same man lay before him, near death as a result of Vitro's fateful decision. Vitro suddenly felt very old. He drew a long tired sigh and asked,

"How did it happen?" The Major at the head of the bed replied with a voice that was soft and devoid of emotion. All the Striker's faces echoed how drained the man sounded. _It must have been beyond brutal down on the planet_. Tunn's words echoed that sentiment,

"We were outnumbered at least 8-to-1 and lost about a 1/4 of our team in the first attack. We were under orders to join up with the rest of the company and couldn't find anywhere to make a stand so we kept advancing. The _kalishe_ was doing an awesome job. He once ran through a wall of firepower to drag back a Drakmärian who'd been shot in the leg while preparing to throw a plasma grenade. The grenade was still live, but the actuator was broken. Rather than abandon the unconscious soldier, Barco threw the grenade and covered the soldier while the grenade exploded 3 seconds later, which burned the back of his uniform. Because of the intensity of the attack, he was pinned down and the soldier was losing blood. He rolled over on his back, fixed the damage to the leg as best he could and sealed the wound. He then dragged that soldier back to the line until he found a group of 6 soldiers who were all incapacitated. He grabbed one in his free hand and another by the collar with his teeth and dragged them along as well. On his final trip the firefight was so intense that I couldn't see him, and I was sure that he'd actually been hit by friendly fire." Tunn paused for a moment as his voice began to quiver and then began again, "That assumption was ironic as it turned out. Awhile later, we found an area that we could easily defend and he recommended we regroup so he could do his job more effectively. 11 men who should be dead now are alive because of his actions, over half of then were able to rejoin the fray after Barco was done working on them, and less than 1/2 dozen are requiring serious follow-up surgery right now. We lost a few but were still able to hold off a number of attacks. The final attack was just breaking off when a stray shot hit him. He was only with us for a little over a month, but he'd earned enough respect from the men to get his own team nickname of '_Woof-med_' even though we hadn't formally initiated the name as yet. As a play on his last name: '_woof_ is the equivalent of _bark_-o', position: _med_-ical, and the fact that he loved ancient horror movies and was especially fond of the _Wolfman_." Vitro started to open his mouth to say something when he was paged over the INTERCOM,

_"Dr. Vitro to sickbay lobby stat!"_ When Vitro arrived, he was greeted by a distinguished-looking middle aged Nortanian whose uniform bore the distinguishing feature of having a blue sash. Vitro had never before seen one of those. The man announced as he gestured with a small case he was carrying,

"I'm General Orion of the Militia Reserve. My Doctor is busy with the crew of the _CHEROKEE_ so I thought I'd see if I could help around here?"

"The _CHEROKEE_! What happened?"

"It seems that there was some sabotage which caused a major explosion when they dropped out of Warp upon leaving the Shadowlands. We think it might have happened before they left Spacedock. Some pretty fast thinking on the part of the Engineering crew saved the ship at the last second but left the ship in serious trouble. All the crew survived but was pretty banged up, and Life Support was almost gone by the time we found them. None of them were conscious and that was more than I can say for their ship as it will probably have to be scrapped."

"OK now how much Medical experience do you have?"

"About the same amount as a typical intern. However, I did bring along a _Medical Entity Dynamic Interface Caretaker_, which is the Nortanian version of the Federation's EMH." Vitro rolled his eyes at the thought of a holographic Doctor but consented. As Orion opened the case and withdrew a small cylinder, Vitro noticed that much of the preliminary triage was being done by Mainframe. Vitro frowned at how '_artificial_' Medicine had become over the years and watched as Orion tapped a few keys on his Datalink and the MEDIC hologram seemed to grow out of the cylinder.

* * *

After completing his visit with the '_Angry Angels_' Jarrad had gone to visit the Detachment that had been the last line of defense before the Capitol City. As part of a test program, this Battalion had been assigned to work hand-in-hand with the local Royal Ranger Battlegroup _'Kai Fek'_ and Jarrad was curious to see how the two different teams worked together. The friendly rivalry that had grown between the two from training opposite each other had led to some unfortunate incidents in the recent past which had led to a grade reduction of the group's Senior Commander. Lieutenant. Colonel Havees-L was currently giving Jarrad a tour and wanted the Admiral to meet a nephew of hers who was a Corporal in the Rangers. The main encampment was in a state of organized chaos with the two services doing their best to coordinate attending to the needs of the moment. Havees excused herself for a moment to find a '_PERSonnel Coordination and Operations_' or PersCO duty officer. During high-security arrangements, these officers carried a specialized PADD which could be used to determine the location of any officer in the associated command, usually by their comm transponder. Trying to get out of the way of all the activity, Jarrad stepped over to a position near the Medical tent's entrance. He could hear an agonized voice on just the other side asking, 

"How bad is it? Please tell it to me straight!" A resigned voice replied,

"It's bad, you were _gut-shot_ right as you came off the Shuttle's ramp. We didn't even expect you to wake up which is why they didn't give you anything for the pain."

"I'm all burning up inside. It's like a cold fire. This isn't the right way to go, boss. Please don't tell anybody it was like this! You have to promise me! You have to……" There was a choking gurgle followed by a groan of pain. A voice from behind Jarrad announced,

"Please come with me Admiral, my nephew is right over here." Jarrad was a little shaken by what he'd just heard but followed the Colonel into the tent and purposely kept his eyes averted as they passed the bed the voices had just come from. His stomach knotted as Havees spoke with an Orderly who pointed to that same bed. She walked past Jarrad to the bed and stopped short as she saw the occupant. She demanded to know what happened. The Strikers who were surrounding the Royal Ranger's bed all shared a quick look that even Jarrad would have missed if he hadn't been staring at their faces to avoid looking at the bed's occupant. The Sergeant replied,

"It was pretty messy out there. We were being attacked from all directions. He and some others were holding the line while the rest of us were preparing an attack when he was hit." Havees looked at the figure laying on the bed before her and snarled,

"As long as he took some of them with him that's all that matters!" A female Corporal next to the sergeant added,

"The Private handled himself well for the first time in combat. He probably saved my life as well as a couple others." Jarrad understood what they were doing although he didn't necessarily approve. He turned to his escort detail and indicated it was time to return to the Spacedock.

* * *

O'Camp had relieved Jarrad as officer of the deck when the latter had gone to '_survey the troops_' and Brian was currently engrossed in conversation with Ramoth. Despite his close friendship with T'Kay of the _GALLOWAY_, he'd begun to develop a relationship with Kylara and the two were getting teased by both J'Cinda and Selva. Having been a member of the conservative _Order of the Hand_ the Bajoran former Prylar was sincere but relaxed in his beliefs and was currently asking his superior Chaplain if he needed to warm up any particular ceremony on O'Camp's behalf. J'Cinda, however, was just up to her usual antics of making O'Camp nervous by flirting with him. Between the three of them, O'Camp was beginning to sweat. Mercifully, the turbolift doors opened to reveal Acting Specialist Ryder. The young man took several determined yet cautious strides into Ops and stopped. He then announced, 

"Specialist Ian Ryder reporting as ordered Sir!" O'Camp was preparing to reply when he remembered something that could get him out of his current predicament. It was a poorly kept secret on Ian's part that he had a **_massive_** crush on J'Cinda and had once declared a goal of hugging her. O'Camp replied,

"At ease Specialist." Upon realizing that Jarrad was not in Ops, the teenager relaxed somewhat. Ryder's parents were highly respected Astrophysicists in the Federation, and had transferred to the Alliance at Potter's request on the condition as long as he took their equally gifted son under his wing. Jarrad had not been pleased with having him assigned in this manner but the Council had overruled him, wanting to appease the parents and thinking that the Flagship would be a good learning experience with someone of his talent. O'Camp nearly laughed at the change in the young man's countenance when he followed up with,

"Security, please see to what the Specialist is reporting." It was then that Ryder noticed J'Cinda was less than 5 meters away. She stopped a meter from him and asked smoothly,

"What can I do for you specialist?" O'Camp nearly bit through his lower lip when Ramoth quipped _sotto voce_,

"Now there's a loaded question!" Ian stammered,

"Uhmm, I need to…I'm under orders from Captain…This is for O'Camp!" He then proceeded to hand over a Data Chip, but it slipped out of his hand. He went to bend down to get it right as J'Cinda did, and they wound up touching hands. Startled, he glanced at her and noted that they were only several centimeters apart. He froze. He let out a deep nervous sigh and tried unsuccessfully to find his voice. J'Cinda couldn't resist having a little fun at his expense and gave him a firm embrace and a kiss on the cheek. He turned so red that this time Ramoth commented,

"My what a _lovely_ shade of crimson!" This got a chuckle out of Keurh. J'Cinda brought the Data Chip over to Asimov who glanced at it and commented,

"It's a standard Starfleet-issue isolinear optical storage unit, except that his one has a holographic encoder built in. All you have to do is activate the chip, and it plays itself…curious, it also has a dynamic encryption sensor built into the connector." She grabbed a tricorder, inserted the chip into its auxiliary storage bay and a hologram sprang forth. It was a message from the _GALLOWAY_ indicating that one of the Starfleet ships had covertly supplied them with a new drive system, and they now had it installed. Once they were cleared to leave, they had been issued new Classified orders effective immediately. O'Camp authorized Asimov to clear them without further ado. The program also indicated that there was a series of personal messages that were individually encoded on the chip. After viewing his in Dermon's ready room, O'Camp went to find Jarrad.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Daynel Hardison was sitting on a bench in the Spacedock's '_open-air_' parkland. She was sitting directly across from the Hospital facilities but the way she was sitting, with one leg tucked under and the corresponding arm draped over the back; she was facing the Evacuation Transporter facility. All the Strikers and assorted other combatants who weren't injured seriously were scattered throughout the area. Many were sleeping, some were still too keyed up or scared and were quietly keeping their positions, and others were maintaining a sense of hyper vigilance and were walking around making small talk. The Nortanians who were nearby were just beginning to get tired and, although most were Pilots, had been put in charge of maintaining Order because of their higher constitution. Although some had acknowledged her because of her species, they hadn't necessarily included her in their interactions. She had been raised on the outer Colony-planet Elka, which barely registered a class M because of the radiation of the proximity from the Shadowlands. Her natural parents had been killed by members of the Dark Band who thought that killing a Government Official would restart the Civil War and give them a way to take Power. She had been adopted by a family in the Human Colony which was why her complexion was somewhat pale by comparison. This paleness had led to her Pilot '_call-sign_' of _D-Lite_…it had originally been _Day-Lite_ but the double meaning stemming from an ancient Terran song led to her giving some fellow pilots an attitude check they didn't soon live down. Early on she'd thought that the Militia would never accept her and had signed up for the Star Corps. Although she'd never regretted her decision, when Commodore Hersh had offered her a transfer to the Militia at a grade of Major "_Not Command-level mind you, I'd prefer to earn that on merit_." she'd actually asked him to _let her think about it_. She took in a deep sigh and considered how sweet the air smelled in the park. She'd been told that this was not just from the natural vegetation, but occasionally the air was also recycled via transporter from the planet. A familiar, commanding presence arrested her attention as he stepped out of the turbolift. Jarrad was met by a middle-aged woman with Regal bearing who wore a Starfleet Commodore's uniform. Starfleet quickly went about adjusting her hair as she approached Jarrad from the direction of the Guest Quarters access. Hardison noted that the Commodore was quickly blinking away the redness in her eyes as she walked past, she must have been catching up on some rest in a rank-afforded private suite. The two Flag officers came to a stop in front of the transporter station and Jarrad said something to the attendant before they both came to attention. All the murmuring among the Drakmärians came to a halt as a figure materialized. Many of the Drakmärians began to get to their feet out of respect for the figure, who had some type of Jeweled Symbol of Office hanging around his neck over his robe. The figure paused to wave a dismissive hand to his exhausted countrymen and Jarrad turned his head to make eye contact with a nearby officer to nod assent before they all breathed a collective sigh of relief and _plopped_ back down. The Dignitary spoke briefly to Jarrad, who pointed to the Hospital entrance before they all began to make their way over to the facility. Along the way, Jarrad made eye contact, smiled, and waved at many those scattered near him. Just as they were approaching the main doors, Jarrad spotted the group of Nortanians and waved them over. The others all took a couple step and then noticed that she hadn't moved. They all came to attention suddenly and the senior most said, 

"My apologies for the breach in Protocol Sir, I had no intention of usurping your authority and it will not be repeated." Hardison nearly fell out of her chair. It wasn't that they didn't consider her part of them but that they thought she was maintaining traditional Command posture—_Relaxed, Observing, and Reserved_. She swung to her feet and led them over to where the Dignitary was waiting. Jarrad was speaking Drakmärian to the man as they approached and Hardison's Datalink hadn't gotten enough of the conversation yet to interpret via its Translation Matrix. All she knew is that she heard the human word _Messiah_ a couple times and that caused the Nortanians behind her to whisper among themselves. She brought them to a halt a few meters away and was opening her mouth to announce their reporting, Jarrad smiled,

"As you were. This is Sanndor-W, a Nobleman from R'zal'Shii IV…" Jarrad paused as the Nortanians and Sanndor exchanged bows. _Great, _Daynel thought, _I go from just another Courier Squad Leader, to Chief Helm of a starship, to Officer Exchange Program Candidate, to unit Commander, to Ambassador all in a space of one day! The Mystic must either be really happy or really annoyed with me today…I wonder which?_ Jarrad continued, "As I was telling his Eminence, this is the team that gave _air support_ to the Spacedock's fighter contingent during their defense of the Canyon. The Lieutenant Commander was instrumental in handling the Fathership that entered the planet's atmosphere near the Capitol City. He wishes to visit with a relative here who was involved with your part of the situation as well as handle some official State Business and would be honored if you took part." Due to the fatigue that seemed to be etched on his features, Jarrad didn't even wait for a response as he led the group into the hospital. All the Drakmärians they passed came to _attention_ upon seeing the Nobleman and Jarrad gave a few words of encouragement to those who acknowledged him. Many who were still awake were too sedated to notice or care. Jarrad spoke in hushed tones to an individual with Silvery Skin who seemed to be totally nonplussed by the Noble's presence. Hardison recalled something about a Being matching this description during her days at TIST as well as having heard one of the Hershes mentioning this Being in passing during a Courier run. The group continued down the hall until they got to a room with a temporary label of **RECOVERY ROOM** marked on the wall next to the door. They entered the room and were making their way over to the PersCO officer's terminal when a young man halfway across the room struggled to his feet and limped to meet them. Hardison heard some murmurs among the Nortanians and she shot them a disproving look to silence them. The young man was obviously Drakmärian, but his head was wrapped in bandages, one eye was nearly swollen shut and was walking with the aid of a cane. When he spoke his voice was shaky and hoarse,

"Admiral…uncle; it's good to see you both sirs. To what do I owe the visit?" As he addressed each one he tried a clumsy salute for the former and nearly fell forward when he tried to bow for the latter. Jarrad replied,

"Lieutenant Tannor, I am only here at the request of your government. It seems that you have an official duty to perform. Your comrades are here to help you wave the flag out of respect for your conduct." Sanndor spoke next,

"I just got your message and I would like you to introduce me to the one whose call sign is '_Messiah_'." The officer addressed his uncle,

"You just missed him; he was cleared to leave not a minute ago." Sanndor made a gesture for him to lead the way. As they headed to the door, Jarrad gestured to an orderly who met them at the door with a _Gravity Individual Mobility Porter_. While they set the GIMP for Tannor to control with his unbandaged left hand, Jarrad determined their destination after consulting the computer. Moments later, they found whom they were looking for. When Jarrad saw the look on the man's face he wished he could simply call this little ceremony off…it simply wasn't the right time for sentimentality. The young man, who usually had a ready smile and a self-assured cocky air about him. Just now, he was leaning his fingertips against a series of windows in the hallway, staring at the room inside. He had a _thousand-yard_ stare and was mumbling to himself in his native tongue. Since Jarrad wasn't very fluent, he wasn't able to pick up more than a couple words, but heard the word for "_sorry_" several times. He had had to walk past the door to the room and when an occupant of the room walked up to the window and waved him in, he turned and faced the group. It wasn't until he had taken two steps and been ready to enter the door when he noticed them. He stopped short, and his bloodshot eyes flew open wide. Jarrad quickly whispered instructions to Hardison and she nodded comprehension. She quickly entered the room with the other Nortanians following and explained what they were to do. While they prepared, Jarrad could be heard speaking,

"Sanndor, you wished to be introduced to the Pilot known as _Messiah_ due to the cultural significance of his birth name. Lieutenant. Commander Salvador, this is Patrician Sanndor-W, tribal overlord and Tannor-K's uncle." In response to Jarrad's comment, Hardison tapped a few keys on her Datalink to find what the _cultural significance _was. When she noted the name translated as "_JESUS SAVES_" her cultural sensitivity training filled in the blanks. She could hear a pregnant pause and then Sanndor said,

"Come, follow me, and I will explain!" The four poured into the room to see the Pilots making two columns leading to a bed. Sanndor stopped before the column, turned to Jesús and announced,

"It is my understanding that Ensign Sa'don had no family. Since you are the last to hold authority over him, I am here to humbly request you release the body to me so I can inter the body in a place of honor in the family crypt." Salvador quietly nodded and the two proceeded to the bed where the young Ops officer's still form lay. Finding his voice, the Pilot requested,

"Admiral if I may ask a favor? I'd like to recommend a Commander's commendation for my crewmen?" Jarrad nodded and informed him to consider it done. The ever irrepressible Tannor boasted,

"Oh nice, nice! That will make me a _shoo-in_ for the _Distinguished Flying Cross _ as well as a _Sword of Valor_ ribbon!" Jarrad grinned at him and chuckled dryly,

"You really think so, huh son!" Tannor cringed and his voice trailed off as he made a comment about Star Corps policy on the granting of achievements. The gunner suddenly piped up again,

"Aww… That is lame! Had _Pinch_ lived, he'd be sure to have gotten Lieutenant at the board in 2 weeks!" In reply Jarrad mused,

"Now _that_ I can arrange!" At Jarrad's request, Tannor explained that the Ensign had gained the call sign '_Pinch_' by being the member of unit to call on if you needed help since he had a way of coming through in a pinch. Jarrad asked the Pilot if he knew how it had happened and the Hispanic man shook his head silently. Hardison spoke up and answered,

"One of my subordinates here saw it happen. The Jerichan _THUNDER_-class fighter struck the left wing of your ROGUE, shearing it off and leaving a nasty hole in the side. Your comrade was sucked out through that hole at about 10 meters. Your craft came to a near dead stop and went into a crazily spinning belly flop. The impact had jammed the Pilot's auto-release on his restraint harness and sent the Gunner flying into the Rest Pods in the aft section of the compartment. Which was quite lucky, since you landed on your right wing and came to rest upside-down."

* * *

Jarrad and Jade were returning to the Parkland area to _survey the troops_ and decided to swing through the Sickbay area to see how things were progressing. The first Operating Theater they came to the window was entirely blocked by uniformed people who were obviously distressed. Curious, Jade addressed a Gold-shirted female Lieutenant Commander who was consoling a Red-shirted female Ensign wearing a sling on her arm, 

"What seems to be the problem, Commander?" Her features distorted by tears, Gold-shirt replied,

"It was a freak lucky shot Sir. The Ensign was being relieved after having been injured. That left the Helm unmanned for that moment. They aren't sure if the '_Boss_' will make it but if there's anything that any of us can do…I speak for the entire crew that we will make whatever sacrifice has to be made." Jarrad tapped the **INTERCOM** key and asked the young Drakmärian female inside,

"Doctor J'Lorra, what is the prognosis? We have a lot of upset people out here." Not even breaking stride with her duties and making Medical requests of her assistants while she replied,

"Not good sir…I've got severe burns…multiple fractures…the primary bleeding has been stopped for now…rib cage has been crushed on one side…I don't know yet if I'll be able to save the arm or legs…I have yet to determine what the extent of the internal injuries are…there may be some minor damage to the spine that could be easily rectified…I'd have to decide whether to save him crippled or risk it and go all the way…I'm not a specialist in that area though…the best for this is Tyson and he's already occupied…the ironic part is his case more extensive but less intensive." J'Lorra looked up and made eye contact with the officer's crew mates with a look that said _I'm doing my best_ before she wiped away a lock of green hair from her forehead and returned to her patient. Jade wandered over to the next theater and gestured for Jarrad to follow. The scene was a direct contrast to the previous one. There was but one officer standing outside the room and he had his arms folded across his chest with a mildly annoyed expression on his face. Jade asked as she approached,

"You don't look too happy to be here, what's the deal?" The Gold-shirt replied,

"I'm here because I _have_ to be here. They needed someone from the Command staff as an observer, and I got chosen since I have Seniority due to being longest in grade." When Jade asked him how long he'd been a Lieutenant, she was surprised by the answer. Jade then stopped short and stated,

"Weren't you the Staff Training Coordinator on my old ship when I was Chief of Staff?" When he nodded, she continued, "As I recall you were receiving a merit promotion to Lieutenant Commander when the First Officer position opened on the _VIGILANT_. What happened with that?" He paused to mull his words before answering,

"The _Commanding Officer_ of the vessel informed me that ranks on his vessel were earned rather than given away by sentimental bureaucrats." He sneered the words _Commanding Officer_, "He also informed me that no matter what Starfleet thought, he didn't need some hotshot upstart looking to _fast track_ his career by undercutting all his Captain's decisions. In my opinion, that man did not deserve his own Command." Jarrad replied to his last statement a trifle icily,

"Careful young man, he may have run an overly tight ship but he was still your superior officer!"

"Excuse me sir, but he was only my _superior_ officer by virtue of the fact that he outranked me! Our ship has the highest turnover rate in the fleet. He was more concerned with kill rate in combat than Mission completion. We were here as backup and the reason we became disabled was that we got outflanked, and the Captain blamed it on the poor training of the Bridge crew. He was convinced we were all conspiring to destroy _his_ career. The officer he demoted was someone he was trying to muster out of the service. Last year, we were doing deep mapping scans and instead of taking the ordered route, the Captain decided to shorten our mission time by going through the Kuziyakh nebula. When we got _on-station_, he was informed we needed to spend at _least_ a day Degaussing the Primary Sensor Pack before we could start scanning or the calibration would be off and the results would be useless. He wasn't happy but relented. We were less than halfway through when the distress call came from Monitoring Station _EPSILON TAU GY-2_. He ordered the mission scrubbed and to proceed to the defense of the Station. Despite the input of the crew, we dropped everything and wound up arriving 3 1/2 hours after it was over. We wound up being right on time for the celebration ceremony put on by the Government that hosted the station and the Ambassador assumed we'd taken part. He gave the entire crew reprimands for failing to complete the mission, and he got himself awarded the _Distinguished Star of Valor_ for his _Leadership during Combat_." Jarrad frowned at this and asked Dr. Tyson the status of the patient. The middle-aged Doctor replied in a tight yet efficient voice in his light Welsh accent,

"Mild burns over much of his body, skull fractures resulting in multiple subdural hematomas, severe lacerations resulting in internal and external bleeding, I suspect there may also be multiple spinal injuries. I'm looking at least multiple major surgeries over the next several days just to get him stabilized and keep him there since his vital functions technically have him clinically dead already. I can probably do it, but it's going to be a major battle, and I'll have to offset the rest of the load to someone else. I can't make any guarantees and if he survives he will most likely be an invalid the rest of his life." The _RICHLAND_ officer standing next to Jade said flatly,

"No matter the outcome, I intend to press formal charges on behalf of the crew against him. We lost almost the entire Duty Staff of Engineering due to his conduct and that is inexcusable." Jade conferred with Jarrad for a few moments, and then Jade quietly addressed the Lieutenant,

"I have a compromise for you. If you spare Starfleet the embarrassment of a Court Martial, I will seal his record and stamp a formal reprimand on it. Jarrad is directing the Doctor to assist the Doctor in the next compartment whose patient will survive with another Surgeon assisting. If you agree, I'll promote you to Commander and give you the _RICHLAND_." He nodded and indicated that he'd address the deal with his crew. He didn't even wait for Jarrad to indicate to Tyson not to continue with extreme measures before he saluted Jade and departed.

* * *

Due to official duties on both their parts intervening, O'Camp didn't catch up with Jarrad until nearly 3 1/2 hours after he'd left Ops to find him. Jarrad had gone down to the observation deck and was watching the starship activity from a private booth. As O'Camp approached, the door to the booth slid open and J'Cinda stepped out. O'Camp greeted her as they passed each other, 

"Hello Chief, how are you?"

"With all this Brass around, how can a girl go wrong?" She winked her reply and chuckled as O'Camp blushed. Jarrad was staring out the window at an angle, watching the _TANELORN_ float by. Noting the Admiral's disheveled appearance, the _SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN'_s XO realized that his friend wasn't in the mood to discuss the recent conflict. Which was good since the casualty list he'd left in the Flagship's Ready Room made his stomach knot.

_He looks about as unkempt as I feel_! The Captain mused. Glancing at his recent posting, O'Camp commented,

"She does move quite well, doesn't she?" Dartanion sighed,

"That she does, my friend, that she does…" Something clicked in the back of O'Camp's mind and he slowly turned to face his comrade,

"I was referring to the Flagship." Without thinking, Jarrad answered,

"Oh, oops!" Jarrad paused in confusion while glancing at the closing doors in the direction of the departing J'Cinda and retorted, "How did you know about…?" Immediately after he said it he realized he'd been had and O'Camp confirmed this by saying,

"I didn't until you just told me." The two shared a much-needed tension lightening laugh.

"Who has Bridge duty right now? So that, I can know who to relieve." Jarrad asked in a distant voice just to break the stillness and fill it with _something_. O'Camp understood. The quietness made him start thinking and the thoughts that came were too _disquieting_. The Stress and Fatigue were beginning to take their toll. O'Camp answered softly,

"Commander Dorvar-T who is my assistant Chief of Operations on the Spacedock. She rather abruptly informed me the other day that she'd like to have some experience aboard a vessel of some sort. I think she's after a promotion to a Flag Rank since she's been quoting the manual quite a bit lately to the point where I'm beginning to think she knows it better than Mainframe. She may not be much in the personality department, but she does know how to get the job done."

* * *

_Personal Log of Commodore Zachary Dermon. The Command staff has all gotten a good night's sleep and Jarrad has called a mandatory Command meeting in the main mess hall. I have a feeling I know what this is all about and am anticipating the news. I am hoping that it will allow me to bring about some much-needed changes where technology development is concerned. I do have some regrets about the loss of my dream, but I know this next step holds a special promise for me as far as my future goals are concerned._

"…So, in closing, I say that although many lives have been changed, none of the sacrifice was in vain. The Primus wishes to extend his formal gratitude to one and all for this achievement. At his request, nearly everyone will be receiving a formal Commendation and all pending promotions have been approved across the board. Admiral Gibson Porter has informed me that a number of our Starfleet comrades who took part in the recent battle are duly impressed and wish to transfer as part of the Officer Exchange Program. We welcome these new additions to our ranks and wish them well. Those from the Star Corps who wish to take part please feel free to contact Lieutenant Valentine, who will be taking part in this exchange himself. I, for one, will miss him. Speaking of missing people the time has come for Commodore Antoné Hersh to go into a brief retirement so that he may tend to official government business at home. This has left an opening at _STARBASE NORTANIA_ for a qualified Administrator who has my full confidence to run the Facility and represent the Star Corps in the same manner he has grown accustomed to in his current posting. I know you will do us all proud Commodore Dermon! This will automatically promote his '_number one_' to_ th_e Number One position around here…_haha_! As far as the new Exec for this facility, that position goes to an officer who acquitted himself quite nicely in the past day by making some tough decisions that saved his crew and brought them home when anyone else would have been justified in abandoning the mission. Pr'gn, the Council has decided not to scrap the ship but rebuild it as a testament to your mission a task which you can oversee in your new position. Now please everyone enjoy the festivities at the pleasure of the Primus. Thank you all!" Jarrad finished his speech and turned from the lectern. Dermon turned to face O'Camp and shook the offered hand while the chaplain smiled,

"Congratulations! I kind of figured I was going to wind up in charge of a facility someday!" Zach had known his academy roommate too long and too well not to notice that Brian's smile ended at his lips, his eyes contained another emotion altogether. _Wait a minute! Does Brian want Nortania also? He never said anything…Well there is a lot of work to do there, and we've worked well here. From what Hersh says, I can definitely use all the help I can get and with Brian's background I should be able to have him consult on preparing "_my_" Starbase for any Jerichan event._ He was planning to broach the subject when his friend disappeared into the crowd. O'Camp was wandering through the crowd, distracted by his thoughts and not at all happy with any of the recently transpired events. The Captain was so deep in thought that he didn't notice Commodore Jade until he almost walked into her. She made some comment about the Exchange Program and that she had an ideal Candidate to replace the departing Assistant Chief of Operations. He replied that Ops was still his domain and there probably weren't going to be too many changes there, but he'd consider any qualified referral to the Chief of Staff office. Jade indicated the officer in question who was facing the other direction from them both while chatting with another officer. Jade mentioned the Transferee's name, but he didn't pay too much attention as he indicated he had some business to attend to. O'Camp then made a beeline for the door just wanting to find somewhere he could be alone with his thoughts.

"Hey Zach, I thought for sure I'd find Brian chatting it up with you?" Pr'gn asked as he approached the man he was replacing as the head of the Alliance Engineering Corps.

"No I think he needed some breathing space after all the excitement. By the way, I wanted to have a little chat with you. See that man over there between the Avion and the Lunärian?" Pr'gn looked and saw an individual that almost melted into the crowd. He was so nondescript Pr'gn almost missed him. The man's eyes flicked around the surroundings and rested on the Engineer for but a split second. For some reason, even that moment sent a chill down Pr'gn's spine. Dermon continued after waving in the man's direction, "He's Jericho Stone, retired Federation Special Operations. He has a rather unique vessel that he uses, and we have a special arrangement that I'd like for you to continue. You keep any parts he needs available without question at no charge, and anytime you have a mission that needs deniability or anything obtained just ask him. He runs a Courier Service, and my dealings with his crew can best be described as '_honest_.' I'd suggest you find your new Boss and let him in on it now as well. There is a file named '7' which is the name of Stone's ship that I'd like you to take a look at in the Engineering files." Pr'gn hung around and made small talk throughout the room for another hour before heading for the door. He was almost there when a young woman who was wearing spectacles interrupted him. She made some type of gestures as she spoke,

"I want to _thank you_ for opening that new communications frequency and banding it to the Command system. That modification has saved me a few headaches getting acclimated to your technology." Pr'gn paused for a second, confused. He then recalled Commander Akermann giving him a data chip and with a request for it to _replace the Chip in Communications Repeater Panel 35-papa, row 8, column 2__to reflect the communications needs of one of the Starfleet ships_. Except that Panel was part of the Bank used by the _Artificial Intelligence System_. The Chip already had a _hybrid data-processing driver_ built into it. _Was this woman a hologram_? He thought for a moment and knew that only the Nortanians had interactive holograms that were nearly this advanced. But, Nortania didn't have an _export policy_ with the Federation and this lady was wearing a Gold Lieutenant's uniform. He was ready to reply when he remembered reading about the spectacles she was wearing in a footnote of a recent Journal article on upcoming technology that would soon be available for specialized use. It was called an _Etuman Audial Relay_ and _acted_ as a _heads-up device_ to interpret sounds for the Deaf woman. At least he _guessed_ she was Deaf since Etum was populated by a culture of either Deaf or Mute and since she _could_ speak it was the only other conclusion… He extended a hand and remarked,

"I apologize for my hesitation, I've just never met an Etuman and your EAR fascinates me. I like to discuss how your Audial Relay works sometime, if I may?" She smiled warmly and gestured some more as she replied,

"That would be great. I will be transferring to the Spacedock as part of the Exchange Program, and I met an officer yesterday through my former Captain, Commodore Jade. Would you please give my regards to Captain O'Camp?" He nodded and smiled,

"Of course, in fact I'm going to go see him now on official business." Pr'gn knew exactly where the man who had shared his family's home for all those years after the Alliance had declared Independence would be. The one place where there would be nobody else right now. The Combat Simulator Holodeck in the Striker barracks. The Strikers who weren't sleeping were all attending a ceremony put on by the Royal Rangers on the planet. They were all on 48 hours R&R, and the Nortanians were supplementing Security in the meantime.

* * *

Moments after Pr'gn had left to locate his new Commanding Officer, Jade had located Jarrad and the two had become engrossed in a conversation full of mutual admiration. Jade was in the middle of relating how the _ARK ROYAL_ had fared during the battle when Jarrad spotted J'Cinda mingling her way through the crowd. She noted the eye contact and winked her reply while smiling. He waved her over and introduced her to the middle-aged British Commodore. He commented that Jade had gotten her start in Security and had saved much of her crew despite her husband getting killed when the Frigate _COUGAR_ had been lost during the battle at Wolf 359. J'Cinda nodded at her superior's impressive record and replied, 

"A pleasure to meet you Sir." Jade chuckled and lost her Regal bearing for a moment to murmur conspiratorially to the Security Chief in a "_just one of the girls_" manner,

"Oh please young lady, call me Lois. I won't _snap to_ if you won't…besides _I_ don't have to marinate in Testosterone to remember what my rank is." She playfully nudged Dartanion with an elbow as she concluded her comment, and both women shared a laugh as the Admiral proceeded to stammer in mock protest while blushing. The two women made _small talk_ for a few minutes and Jarrad decided to steer the conversation back to the recent events, which is the reason he'd called the Drakmärian officer over. He turned to Jade and asked,

"Lois, would you tell her what you told me about when you were hit by the _SONIC Jammer_ weapon?"

"Why yes, of course! We noted that there was a differential in the displaced kinetic rebound of…" Jarrad listened intently as she continued to describe in the minute detail of the analysis her Engineering people had given her of the event. J'Cinda narrowed her amethyst eyes for a moment and thought about this new information. When she spoke, she related the analysis from the Spacedock's Control Center,

"We use the same level of amplification in our field distortion generators so our shields work on essentially the same principle. However, our phase sync is lower so we can use a higher impact rating. That way our shields can be augmented easier and we can modify our Field Geometry which can even be used by starships to aid in High Warp travel. It even can help to prevent detection by standard scanners since we use a '_grid_' style of shielding rather than the older '_eggshell_' that you are still using. What you are saying helps to correct our _original_ assumption that the weapon's efficiency is affected by the _mass_ of the target. You see, the Dock section of this Facility is usually left unshielded and during the first attack, Asimov thought that…" Jarrad continued to follow along as the two brainstormed their different experiences from the same weapon. The Tech was a little over his head and a couple times he jokingly wanted to ask them to speak standard, but thought better of it as he was still able to follow the _gist_ of the conversation. The Commodore's eyes suddenly opened wide, and Jade then grinned. Jarrad could almost see an '_idea_' light bulb switch on behind her eyes and she confirmed this by saying,

"The Kinetic Rebound could be caused by the weapon using the gravitic flux of the shields as a stabilizing agent. It seems the _greater_ the Subspace Field, the more _efficient_ the attack. If we could find a way to modify the field at the moment of impact and then use that modification to reset the field, we could lessen its effect." Jarrad smiled broadly. _**Finally**, the kink in our enemy's armor!_

* * *

Pr'gn found O'Camp right where he'd figured. He'd changed into Casual Duty dress on his way to the Barracks and when he arrived the Strikers on duty only acknowledged his presence with a nod and went back to cleaning their weapons. The Holodeck itself was empty and off, the AI being diverted to the Primary Holodecks for some much-needed entertainment. Pr'gn continued to wander around for a few minutes until a Striker wordlessly caught his eye and nodded in the direction of the Lounge. Pr'gn looked back at the Striker to say _thanks_ but the young Klingon was already back to her task. Pr'gn entered the room and saw his friend stretched out on a Recliner, his hand hovering over a plate on the table next to him. On the plate were rows of raw Nortanian fruits. Only one of the rows had any missing, a round pinkish _Gwatlan _that had the same consistency as a carrot. They were about 3cm in diameter and two were missing. Pr'gn was planning to address his friend when he noticed that O'Camp was playing an odd game of tennis with it using his tongue to transfer the food from cheek to cheek. He abruptly stopped, chewed, and swallowed before he addressed the adopted Drakmärian in a familiar manner that nobody outside his family used, 

"Percy, I had nothing to do with your promotion. It was a policy decision based on your new position. It's ironic, since the fact that your first Command was lost is the reason they put you on the Spacedock, yet it's also the reason they placed you in a position that required the grade increase." Pr'gn frowned at the use of his birth name but _flopped_ down in a Lounge Chair across the table and grabbed a couple of thin leafy blue _Speesi _crisps from the plate. They were entirely edible, but the Engineer broke them in half, sucked out the inside and then ate the skin. O'Camp chuckled at the old habit since the sucking effort always made one's tongue numb and Pr'gn paused to speak until feeling returned.

"I don't really care about that Bri; I enjoyed my first Command. This just throws my future plans off a little. Toné and Zach have begun making up some plans for upgrading the old Starbase and I was planning to be part of the team involved in that project. The _TANELORN_ has already been established as the Primary Courier contact vessel for that project. I was also wanting to get more involved with some of the '_Proving Ground_' design testing program going on at the Aslan Shipyard."

"You could always go into the private sector since I know they are looking for Independent Contractors to issue bids according to Nortanian law. Just to let you know, since I was acting Commander for the past couple days I found out about some pending projects. The Council has just approved a new ship design called the ALLIANCE-class Offensive Warship. It will be the most massive hull in the fleet, and the tentative designs look impressive."

"I know all about that new ship since they told me I was to '_clean up_' the design once the project was approved. I even submitted a design. As far as the Private Sector goes, I've been giving it some consideration since I have some favors due me for work I've done in the past. I don't really mind the promotion; it's just that I was actually enjoying having space legs once again."

"Well you know that Vitro will soon be too old to hold a vessel command, perhaps you can request the _MERCY_?" Pr'gn rolled his eyes and shrugged at this. O'Camp continued, "I agree there's nothing like serving aboard the Flagship. Although my personal goal is to some day serve on Nortania. The _ARCHANGEL_ project has been ordered put on hold until the fleet is back to contract quota since my position within the Chaplaincy is now honorary since I'm holding a position of authority in a time of conflict. The _CRUCIFIX_ is now Keurh's courier and the _NARNIA_ is to be my Flagship."

"I've never had the opportunity to meet the good Reverend, I'll have to correct that oversight. Speaking of meeting people, I just got pointed out to someone that Zach wants me to help out with keeping his ship running…a gent named _Stone_ who is a retir…" O'Camp cut him off with a dirty look as he snapped icily,

"I know _who_ and _what_ the man is. There is no love lost between us. He is to be considered _restricted_ and _only_ given access to any areas his Civilian status needs him to be. You can tell him: _I don't care what his arrangement was before, on my station his every move will be monitored as though he is a class 1 Itinerant_."

"OK…even though he hasn't committed any crime?"

"He was a _dirty tricks_ operator in the Intelligence community so I don't know that he hasn't. I don't need him to be '_hired by someone hired by someone hired by someone friendly to our enemies_' with him in a position to compromise this Facility."

"Speaking of positions on the Facility, we are already getting requests for postings for the Exchange personnel. Jade made a specific request for one person whose career she's _fast-tracking_ and the individual forwards their regards in looking forward to working with you."

* * *

In the next 3 days, 386 Alliance personnel were exchanged for 512 from the Federation. Pr'gn had the AEC finish the work on the damaged vessels while he led the team to resurrect the _CHEROKEE_. The Council decreed that by custom, the valiant Destroyer's name was to be retired. Pr'gn wasn't happy with this since he didn't fully understand the custom until Jarrad explained it to him. Essentially, ships that had been commissioned less than a year and were involved in a catastrophic incident had their names retired whether they were rebuilt or not out of respect for those who built her. This was supposed to ensure that the builders didn't get repetition fatigue by constantly working on the same project over and over. It was small consolation to Pr'gn when Jarrad informed him that the new name would likely be the Cherokee word for '_Cherokee_' or **_TSALAGI_**. Before the work on the Destroyer commenced, Pr'gn was asked to officiate the promotion ceremony for T-V. She was placed in Command of the specialized Combat Engineer Detachment that could be assigned to any Battlegroup. As he was affixing the Sergeant's rank, he commented that he expected to see her name on the list of Officer Institute Candidates submitted to the AEC and forwarded to his desk within the next 2-3 promotion cycles. Lieutenant Commander Salvador approached O'Camp and requested another Ops officer. He also informed him about the combat performance of the modifications to the Corvettes and requested that all relevant logs should be submitted for evaluation for consideration of extending the modifications to those unmodified. O'Camp informed him on the latter that he needed to write up a work order for the AEC to extend the upgrades and then program the modifications into a simulation and forward that to all Squadrons. As far as a replacement was concerned, he needed to extend a request for applications and pick one. Within a day, Salvador had over 100 applications. Nearly every Corvette Ops Manager and scores from various vessels throughout the Star Corps replied. He finally came to a decision after he jokingly asked Tannor for his input. He didn't actually expect the Gunner to have any response except for a noncommittal shrug, but was greatly surprised when he actually stopped to think about it. Ever since he'd been awarded the medals he'd qualified for, he'd been taking himself a little more seriously. He actually came up with an insightful request to fill the position that Salvador gave merit to and greatly narrowed the search by suggesting _a new ROGUE be designed that only required a crew of two_ as well as ideas for updated modifications. In return, Tannor asked for lessons on flying in the Simulator. Jarrad gave Dorvar over 24 hours in charge of the Flagship before relieving her and spent nearly the entire trip transferring Dermon to Nortania poring over her very factually detailed and by the book duty logs. Jarrad also insisted on Potter acting as First Officer during the trip so that he could presumably transport his friend to his new job on Vulcan. During the trip, Jarrad managed to get the Vulcan Science Academy to delay his tenure by one year which Potter was not very happy with but decided against debating the matter with his superior. 

_**EPILOGUE**_

Over the next couple years, the conflict continued. Though not an officially declared war, the battles became more intense and more often. Dermon's health continued to decline and O'Camp continued to consult on the upgrades to the Facility at Nortania. During a critical phase of the project, Dermon overexerted himself and had to take sick time. O'Camp and Pr'gn went and visited _STARBASE NORTANIA_ during Dermon's convalescence and ensured that everything continued to move smoothly. Unfortunately, a member of the Admiralty decided it was inappropriate to leave their Command unattended and took control of the Spacedock in their absence. This action opened the door for the officer to charge them with Dereliction of Duty and remove them from both current positions. Pr'gn And O'Camp were demoted and transferred to Jarrad's supervision aboard the _TANELORN_. Pr'gn quickly gained his rank and was promoted again to Captain when the _MERCY_ became available after Vitro transferred to the _FLEET DEVELOPMENT CENTER_. O'Camp also regained his rank and was promoted to First Officer of the _TANELORN_ when Potter decided he no longer had any interest in delaying his tenure any further. Part of the reason for the change in plans was the death of Ian Ryder's father. Following this, the teen's mother began to show romantic interest in Potter. Believing such a relationship to be inappropriate, Potter left and got his Teaching Tenure at Altair VI after obtaining positions for the remainder of the family within the Federation. During this time, O'Camp met Templeton and the two became close friends. Soon after O'Camp became First Officer, the _TANELORN_ was assigned to investigate a series of suspicious and inexplicable occurrences involving Alliance property. Following an investigation of an unmanned Wayfarer explosion at _STARBASE LUNÄR_ the _TANELORN_ was returning to home when main power failed partway through the trip, and the ship had to be towed the rest of the way. The crew could not ascertain the source of the problem, and the power inexplicably returned once they entered the star system. When the main computer was rebooted, all evidence of the investigation had disappeared. The day after arrival, Jarrad awoke to find that all record of his existence had been erased! Curious about why his Command Codes no longer worked, Jarrad entered the crawl space next to his quarters to access the Security grid. Because of this, he narrowly missed being arrested by a Security Detail who had orders to shoot to kill if he resisted. He got back to his quarters aboard the Flagship after two days of _cat-and-mouse_ and was preparing to do a remote restore of the computer mainframe when he was interrupted by a shadowy figure. The figure warned Jarrad to be careful because the Alliance could be brought to its knees as easily as any of the individual ships. The figure insisted that Jarrad had grown careless and had allowed foolish sentimentality to rule his Command interests. Jarrad was told that he'd been erased to not only get his attention but to prove that nobody could be trusted. The figure admonished him to seriously consider his role in the organization, as well as history, before his mistakes started to catch up to him. Jarrad was also told he needed to determine why he was pursuing the course he'd chosen and determine what he intended to accomplish. Before Jarrad could respond the figure informed him that all had returned to normal and simply disappeared. When Hersh returned to Active Duty following his obligations to his government, he accepted Pr'gn's offer to become the _MERCY's_ First Officer. The Flagship's patrol route continued to ferry O'Camp to Nortania to assist Dermon with the ongoing upgrade project and Jarrad even teased his first officer that one day he would forget him there. After a joint _TANELORN-MERCY_ mission during which a Jerichan attacker was able to hold off the _MERCY_ and the _TANELORN_ arrived too late to prevent the deployment of a _planet-killer_, Pr'gn confided in O'Camp. He informed him that while the _MERCY_ had been making regular checkup trips to Nortania to keep abreast of Dermon's declining health, Pr'gn had used the occasions to make some contacts in the local community. Once his _tour of duty_ was over, the Engineer was considering finally retiring to found his own company. When a request was made for design consultants to advance the ALLIANCE-class project under construction, Pr'gn accepted the offered _Temporary Duty Assignment Transfer_. The team made great progress until he found out that it was a joint Alliance-Federation project. The Alliance wanted a frame that would replace the Flagship, and the NXC-21000 "_ALLIANCE_" would be christened in the same ceremony that would decommission the _TANELORN_. The council was hoping that Jarrad would retire once offered an Ambassadorial position and Drakmär IV would sign a Mutual-Defense treaty as a Federation protectorate. It was hoped that this would bring an end to Jerichan aggression. The last straw for Pr'gn was when he was told that although the Alliance team would build the vessel, the Federation would receive full credit for its design. He was ending his TDAT when the _MERCY_ joined the _NARNIA_ on a diplomatic mission to Rileus. The Rileans just finish signing the Alliance charter when a Jerichan Fathership attacked which nearly destroys the _MERCY_ and cripples the _NARNIA_. The Rileans are able to beat back the attacker using their own fleet of natively-designed Pocket-Destroyers and tow the _NARNIA_ home with a completely smashed computer system. Hersh gets promoted for saving most of his crew and accepts a Command position on the planet side _NORTANIA PROJECT_. The Rileans request permission to name their Flagship after the fallen _MERCY_ and the Council of Elders agrees even though the original Hospital Ship is rebuilt with the same name. When Jarrad informs Pr'gn he can have any assignment he wants, the Engineer replies that he only wants an assignment that won't have him rebuilding the flagship every couple years and tenders his resignation. He creates "_Miracle Works Incorporated_" which is located in the Civil Section of the Aslan shipyards near Nortania and has its business office in the Capital City of Sh'kr on R'zal'Shii. Within months, business is booming and the Company is given Military Contracts in return for the Board becoming official consultants on Star Corps projects. Jarrad has O'Camp continue investigating the mysterious incidents within the Alliance after he is chastised for suggesting these may be the acts of a traitor. Following one particularly unusual incident, O'Camp hands Jarrad an encrypted message that has been locked with the Grand Admiral's _own passcode_! The message informs Jarrad that his enemy is not who he thinks it is. Within an hour of receiving the message, Jarrad is informed by a member of the Council that he is to personally open diplomatic relations with an enigmatic new race called the Berger. The Berger come across as somewhat Xenophobic, communicating only via audio and scrambling their transmissions to make them impossible to track. On top of that, they only issue communiqués and decline all attempts at _real-time_ interactions. All attempts to gain information are met with the most generic of replies, yet they seem to know a considerable amount about the Alliance. The conflict continues to progress according to plan until the Berger inform Jarrad via the Council that they are looking forward to meeting him. To make matters worse Jarrad's personal life takes a turn when Cadet J'Cinda, with whom Jarrad has been pursuing quiet yet intense relationship, completes the Academy and decides to earn her '_space legs_' on her Training Cruise. While on her Training Cruise, she met another trainee who was preparing to transfer to the Flagship upon conclusion of her tour a month later. The trainee was a great admirer of Jarrad's career and J'Cinda introduces the two at the Transfer Ceremony. J'Cinda also informs Jarrad that she had become close to a Civilian Adviser stationed aboard her posting who was from her Home Province. Jarrad and McCloude become close friends, and this is exacerbated by McCloude and Templeton becoming friends whenever the _TANELORN_ returns to the Spacedock and O'Camp would invite the couple to double-date at Templeton's suggestion. This caused no end of problems for O'Camp as he had also grown close to Ramoth, and the situation was a constant source of levity for Jarrad.

NOTES: It was during the writing of this story that Zach Durkin died from the cancer. I concluded the subplot of _SWAN SONG _about the fate of the _DAV CYGNUS. _I also included the short story _TRAIL OF TEARS_ based on an idea from my cousin who is my mechanic. This story was originally intended to be the story in which Zach was killed saving the Spacedock. The battle was supposed to have crippled the Spacedock and Zach beamed everyone off the _CYGNUS_ and then beamed himself over to the Spacedock's Engineering section. While effecting temporary repairs to stabilize the Spacedock, a Jerichan Fathership attacks and Zach remote controls the _CYGNUS_ into a collision course. The instant after the explosion Zach dies but I never got to decide how that happened. There was another project started which dealt with his death sequence and it was a collaborative project so I changed the plot of this one. His death scene was remarkably similar but he saved _STARBASE NORTANIA_ by blowing up the _TANELORN-A. _I had always planned on killing off the Barco character. He had been named after my Grandfather who also died of cancer within months of Zach's death. I only left him in because I wanted to develop the character some and make his death have more feeling to it.This story was intended as my last story ever written. The 'epilogue' and the final section before that were written as afterthoughts to fill in the blanks after I did decide to write yet another story.

* * *

A thank-you goes out to all the readers for reading the stories I had previously published for the now defunct magazine. Trail of Tears and Swan Song will be forthconing as a tribute to the now deceased Zacharia F Durkin (TOT has all the technobabble left in, SS has more Nortanian elements). My final complete story will be Archangel Rising and was written because I wanted to write a story featuring the Nortanians. It is a standalone story but I think it is one of my best. Please read and review them all. If I get any feedback, I'll post the very short filler stories Dual-ing Champions ( the flagship escorts the Archangel to O'Camp's new posting aboard the Spacedock and stumbles across a secret weapon; this leads to some unusual determinations about the progression of the war), Drolrevo (a new sister ship to the flagship is launched and goes on a mission to a mirror universe where the Alliance is losing the war in order to change the balance of power; two main characters decide not to return), 'Grand' Finale (a first-person story where a main character who is now a retired ambassador visits his son while attending the christening ceremony of the replacement flagship). I also have an almost novel length story called The Siege Of Delphite III in which the Alliance makes a last stand against the Jerichans by taking the battle to the enemy. It is mostly notes in narrative form and I may just post it as is. Right now I'm working on a book about the grandchildren of this series which is set 75-100 years into the future on Nortania. 


End file.
